Shelter
by clandestin273
Summary: All Astrid Hawke wanted was a better life for her family, but nothing is ever that simple. Follows the progress of the game with a few changes. Eventual Hawke/Anders with a bit of Cullen/Hawke.
1. Chapter 1

Sooo this is my first official fanfiction story and I would definitely appreciate reviews! I'm hoping it didn't start off too slow. I really want this to be something that people will enjoy reading! I'm gonna try to publish AT LEAST once a week, hopefully more! Thanks for reading!

* * *

Twenty minutes after Meeran handed her the final bundle of coins she would ever receive as a mercenary, Astrid Hawke found herself spending it at the Hanged Man with Bethany beside her looking anxious.

"I don't think mother would approve of us being here," she squeaked, though she made no motion to actually move.

Astrid ruffled her younger sibling's hair. "Have some fun, Beth! Mother doesn't approve of anything that doesn't involve finding us noble husbands or picking out curtains for our future estate. Who knows, maybe we'll meet some rich young men tonight who are just begging to settle down and marry." Astrid couldn't suppress a snort at her own words before taking a long swig of her ale.

The younger girl watched her sister inelegantly wipe her mouth with the back of her tan hand. "I feel bad for whoever falls for the likes of you," Bethany joked, allowing herself to relax in her seat.

"So do I," Astrid agreed with a laugh.

Two or three (or was it four?) drinks later, the young women were telling slurred tales about their time working for the Red Iron. A bored crowd of about four inebriated men and a grumpy looking waitress watched as Astrid threw her hands out in front of her, describing how their dog, Precious (named by Bethany, much to Carver's chagrin) had caused a target of theirs to piss his pants by simply growling. They'd felt so bad for the man that they let him walk and told Meeran he escaped. Although her sister had to wipe tears from her eyes from laughing so hard at the memory, the waitress simply reminded them of their tab and stalked away. Most of the men went back to their conversation. However, one of the bolder fellows took the time to look over Bethany with a lazy smile.

"What's yer name, darling?" he asked.

The long haired beauty looked like a dear in the headlights. A girl like Bethany should have been used to receiving compliments and flirtatious remarks from men, but with their constant running from the templars, and the amount of isolation the Hawke family preferred because of Malcolm and Bethany's magical abilities, she never got to truly spend time with boys or flirt. It was one of many things Astrid wanted to change for her sister in Kirkwall. Mage or no mage, there had to be someone out there who would love her sister for who she was.

"Bethany," she replied finally with her usual shy smile. "And yours?"

"George," the young man replied, shaking his copper hair out of his face. "What brings you to the, eh, Hanged Man?"

Astrid grinned at her sister and announced she was heading to the restroom to allow the two to chat alone for a bit. She normally never let the girl out of her sight- it was her duty to keep Beth safe, especially since Carver's death almost exactly a year ago. But everyone deserves their own space once in a while, and Astrid was a bit buzzed and why _couldn't_ Bethany speak to an attractive boy? She was an adult and he seemed harmless. A bit drunk, but not threatening with his mop of red hair and skinny arms. _I could take him_, the young woman thought as she looked in the dirty mirror in the Hanged Man's rather repulsive bathroom.

Years of practicing with her bow and competing with Carver had toned her body into something she had taken pride in back at Lothering where she could best the other boys at archery and still earn the occasional lusty gaze here and there. However, now her face was a bit too thin, flaxen hair less shiny, and while she still felt strong, the need in the pit of her stomach for a real, proper hot meal seemed to be ever present. She looked tired. Hell, she _felt _tired. Carver could now easily beat her in combat were he still around to challenge her, she realized. For what had to have been the thousandth time, she wished he really could be there, fretting over Bethany and lecturing Astrid for leaving her alone. She would let him beat her in all races and duels for the rest of her life if it would bring him back to them in Kirkwall.

Resting her heavy head back against the wall, she waited a few more minutes before checking up on Bethany, dwelling on the sound of her brother's complaining ringing in her head. When she returned to the bar, what she saw made her green eyes widen and ignite with rage. The girl was sure that flames were roaring inside her as she shoved her way over to her younger sibling.

The man, George, was gripping Bethany's arm tightly and pulling her close to his chest despite the young mage's hands protesting against him. A crooked grin sat upon his lips but Bethany looked close to tears. With a sound like thunder, the man's head slammed into the shoddy splintered table beside them, a crack that meant a broken nose following in its wake.

"What the fuck! You _bitch_!" George spat through the deluge of blood pouring from his nostrils. He struggled against the hand restraining his head to the table, but to no avail. Astrid's grip was unrelenting, as was her temper. "Let me go!"

"Astrid!" Bethany gasped in what sounded like both relief and fear.

"Don't you _ever_ lay a finger on my sister again, you creep," the older of the two women hissed. She pulled a short, rusty dagger from her belt and held it close to his panicked eyes. "Better yet, if I ever see you handle a woman like that again, I will cut off a few crucial parts of your body. Do you understand me?"

George looked close to tears as he whimpered out a muffled "Alright!" It was funny how quickly men changed when they lost control of a situation, she noted to herself with a disgusted sneer. Astrid released the boy then and stepped back, allowing him to stumble to the exit, attracting all eyes in the tavern.

"Are you gonna be trouble?" the gruff looking man behind the bar asked in that gravelly rumble of a voice that all bartenders in all shady taverns seemed to share.

"No, not anymore," Astrid replied, cooling down. The man merely shrugged his wide shoulders and turned back to his work, paying no mind to the blood soaking into the table on the side of them.

Astrid tucked her dagger away and glanced at Bethany. "Maybe we should go home."

The girl nodded. "Could we wait a little while though, just to make sure he's gone?"

Astrid gave her a sympathetic glance. "Of course."

They took their seats, Bethany biting her lip and playing with her hands, and Astrid rubbing her temples. Some night this had turned out to be. "I'm sorry, Bethany. I thought this night would be different- that we could have some fun for once."

"It's not your fault. I only wish I could do magic in public so I could have lit his hair on fire," Bethany stated, a smile forming on her face as she calmed down again.

Astrid let out a laugh. "Imagine that! You would have been doing him a favor. I wasn't going to say anything if you liked him, but his hair was dreadful_._ I know Lowtown isn't fabulous, but I'm sure he could have washed it _somehow_. And George? What a terrible name. I should have known you could never fall for a _George._"

Suddenly a deep cough cut through their laughter. Neither Astrid nor Bethany had seen the dwarf standing before them approach, but now that he was there, his appearance seemed to demand their attention.

"May I?" he asked, gesturing to an open seat on Bethany's side. Everything from the very _un_dwarven clean shaven face, to the deep smoothness of his voice and the huge crossbow at his back was intriguing. Bethany giggled and looked at her sister questioningly.

Astrid raised a blonde eyebrow but nodded. The dwarf shot her a grin and sat down. "That was an interesting story you were telling earlier. But I would suggest less hand movements. Also, change the dog to a dragon you found on Sundermount and tamed with your bare hands and you'll be infamous."

Both girls cackled with laughter. "I'm sorry. Who ah, who are you?" Astrid asked.

"Varric Tethras at your service. I'm a _bit_ of a storyteller myself, but the way you took out that scum just a minute ago was what truly got my attention. I've never seen someone move so fast in a tavern in my life, not even during happy hour. You even beat Bianca to the punch," the dwarf said, gesturing to the crossbow behind him.

Astrid eyed him warily. "Why do I feel as if you're not just here to compliment my speed and insult my ability to tell stories?"

Varric laughed, a deep full sound that filled the air around them. "I have a business proposition for you. My brother Bartrand-"

"Oh Bartrand! That was the name of that horrid dwarf we spoke to in Hightown yesterday!" Bethany cut in with a sour look contorting her face. "He was so rude."

"That sounds like my brother all right," Varric replied, far from offended. "So you know about the Deep Roads expedition he's been planning?"

Astrid let out a snort. "He rejected us." She had heard about the expedition to the ancient tunnels of the Deep Roads and had been captivated by the profit it seemed to guarantee. However her dreams were crushed when Bartrand promptly yelled in her face in refusal.

He shook his head. "Bartrand wouldn't know an opportunity if it hit him square in the jaw."

She flicked her green eyes to his. "But you would?"

"I would! What my brother doesn't realize is that we need someone like you."

"What makes you certain we could help? You don't even know us." The expedition was an opportunity that promised wealth for her family, a greater life for her mother and Bethany, the chance to get out of Gamlen's stinking shack; however she could not help but question the dwarf's intentions.

Varric leaned back in his chair, resting his feet upon the table. "On the contrary- I know you're an awful storyteller, for one thing, and you know how to properly scare the piss out of a man. Plus you've made quite a name for yourself over the past year. The name 'Hawke' is on many lips these days. Not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat."

"What about Bethany?" Astrid asked, stealing a glance at her sister, who was staring quizzically at the dwarf.

Varric smiled at her, causing her face to flush pink. "She is certainly welcome, but I'll leave that in your hands."

Astrid thought things over. She had worked a year as a mercenary just to scrap her way through life in Lowtown. What were a few weeks in the Deep Roads for a chance to get back the Amell estate in Hightown that her mother and Bethany so deeply desired?

"There must be some way to persuade your brother to hire us on- preferably not involving sexual favors. No offense but I'd sooner kiss a Hurlock than touch Bartrand," she said, only half joking.

Their new associate laughed. "I assure you, my brother wouldn't be interested. I don't think he thinks of anything beyond dwarven politics and the Merchant's Guild…which are the same pain in the ass things really. But we don't need another hireling- we need a partner! The truth is, Bartrand has been tearing his beard out trying to find one on his own, but he can't do it. Fifty sovereigns and he can't refuse. Not with me there to vouch for you."

At the words "fifty sovereigns" Bethany gasped. A frown pulled on Astrid's lips. "If I had that kind of coin I wouldn't need to join the expedition!"

"You need to think big! There's only a brief window after a Blight when the Deep Roads won't be crawling with darkspawn," he replied. "The treasure you find down there could set you and your family up for life!"

_Damn._ Fifteen minutes and he already knew how to rope her in. Astrid bit her lip, still considering.

"It won't be easy, but it's a chance," Bethany pointed out quietly. "I think we have to take it. Better to work our way into this expedition than to sit around waiting to be thrown in the Gallows."

Astrid could handle the smell of piss in the alleyways, the snobbery of the nobles, and even the leeches that lurked in the bars, but the Gallows, with its gargantuan old statues of slaves, and the severe looking templars with their heavy swords and deep frowns, gave her nightmares. Astrid would sooner die than lose her only living sibling to the stone prison of the Gallows.

The dwarf, noticing the pale that had taken form on her cheeks, spoke once again. "We work together, and you'll have all the capital you need. What do you say?"

The older of the two Hawke girls exhaled. Forcing herself to shrug, she replied "It's not like I had anything better planned."


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, so this chapter is a bit longer than the last one, mostly because I wanted to fit Anders in. I'll also be throwing in sections with his point of view along with Hawke's from now on. Cool? Cool! Also, feel free to review, I'd greatly appreciate it!

* * *

"Now, if you were a smuggler where would you be?" Varric asked, squinting in the afternoon sunlight.

Though the beardless dwarf had offered his help to her in her mission to scrounge up fifty sovereigns, Astrid did not think he would be so ready to assist when she took him up on his word in the Hanged Man three days later, with Aveline and Bethany in tow.

As Varric walked beside her, boots trudging through the white sand of the Wounded Coast, the young archer decided she liked him. He called Bethany "Sunshine" and wasn't put off by Aveline's stern demeanor, despite her near interrogation of him. He simply raised a single eyebrow in question as she went on and on about complaints the guards had received from the Merchant's Guild. Astrid had shrugged in response. She'd gotten used to Aveline's guard-like ways before the woman had even become part of the City Guard. Hopefully the man would come to understand her charm.

"Just up ahead, waiting to ambush," the guardswoman replied with a frown. "Now stop talking."

"I would be on ship to Orlais, on my way to starting a new life," Bethany whispered despite Aveline's admonishment.

"Hmm. I like that, Sunshine. What about you, Hawke?"

Astrid considered the question. "I'd probably be smuggling something."

As it turned out, Aveline was correct. Suddenly a dozen men came pouring from the surrounding hills and rocks that dotted the area, all of them wielding sharp and pointy weapons and hollering various war cries. Astrid was a bit disappointed. She had imagined that smugglers would be more subtle.

The small group worked well together however and took them out with ease. Astrid fired arrow after arrow, and Bethany twisted and flipped her pointed staff, shooting off spells that froze, burned, and stunned anyone who got remotely close to them. Aveline meanwhile wielded her sword and Ser Wesley's shield in her powerful hands, sending heads flying. Varric's contribution was also impressive and Astrid found herself staring at his crossbow, Bianca apparently, with envy.

"I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no. Sorry Hawke, but she's very particular," the dwarf said as he pulled one of his bolts from the shoulder of a corpse.

"I think she'd like me," Astrid replied, eyeing the weapon with interest before shooting its owner a grin.

Varric let out a laugh. "That's what I'm afraid of. Not a chance, Hawke."

Pouting, the girl turned to where Aveline was kneeling, searching one of the raiders. "Well equipped for bandits," she noted. "But dead is dead and the road is clear."

"Definitely dead," Astrid agreed, staring at the dead man's pale pink tongue that had lolled out of his mouth. "Yuck."

Bethany, who was looking rather yellow, averted her gaze from the corpses. "I suppose we should loot them for money for the expedition, right?" she asked, sounding like she'd rather do anything but.

"Exactly. Leave it to me, sister," the blonde Hawke instructed her with an easy smile.

While Bethany was certainly a fighter, she did not enjoy killing and did not like to see the results of it. Astrid however, had no problem with it. She didn't savor the feeling of watching one of her arrows pierce a man's neck or stab into his chest, but when the battle was over and her family and friends were alive and the enemies fallen, she could not help but feel a swell of relief and success. Everyone had to make a living, including herself. Astrid understood why they didn't just surrender, but she hoped they understood in turn, why she had to kill them.

Aveline frowned. "Are you sure this expedition is the best thing for you to get involved in, Hawke? It seems…shady."

"Well, there's not much else to do for a profit, besides killing people, and I don't want to do that for the rest of my life." Astrid thought of Meeran and the cool, almost bored way he told her what Big Bad Man she was assigned to kill this week as if talking about something trivial like the weather. She shuddered. No, she did not want to be like that. She wasn't sure exactly how she felt about killing, but apathy was not it.

"Don't fret, Aveline. We'll go down there, slay some darkspawn, find treasure, and head back to the surface. There's nothing to lose!" Varric said. "Well except for our lives, and fifty gold. But Hawke is a professional. Look at her!"

Astrid stood in a mock heroic pose, tilting her head up and shoving her chest out like a statue with her hands on her hips. Bethany snorted and gave her a small hip check.

The guardswoman let out an unintelligible grumble but continued searching the bodies for coins and valuables to sell at the Lowtown market.

"Varric, how do we even get down to the Deep Roads? It's not as if an entrance is sitting in the basement of the Chantry….is there?" Bethany asked suddenly during a stretch of silence.

"I bet there's a lot of strange things in the basement of that Chantry, Sunshine, but yes, I was going to discuss it with you two at the Hanged Man later if you're free. Guardswoman, you're welcome to join as well."

Aveline paused and actually seemed to consider for a moment but then shook her head. "I need to speak with Guard Captain Jeven about the bandits, and I have rounds tonight in Hightown. But thank you," she added with a small smile.

Normally Astrid would pester the woman a bit, exclaiming that she never had any fun, but she thought maybe it was for the best that her friend was busy. Then at least she couldn't object to anything, and wouldn't tell her mother about the expedition.

* * *

When Astrid and Bethany arrived back at home-_no, Gamlen's house_, she corrected herself; this was not home- Leandra was perched on her brother's favorite chair, reading an aged looking book. She smiled as they entered the apartment and pushed her fine grey hair out of her thin face. She was still beautiful for her age, if a little tired around the eyes. For all that she had been through, the death of her husband and child; it was surprising that she did not look like some of the more haggard refugees Astrid had seen in the Darktown area.

"Hello Mother," Bethany chirped, Astrid followed suit but tried to propel her sister towards the bedroom before Leandra took in their appearances. But alas, it was too late.

Leandra let out a gasp, dropping her book on the floor as she rose to her feet. "Girls, is that blood on you?"

"Blood? Not on my new breastplate!" Astrid exclaimed in horror, staring down at herself.

The old woman stared at them both, causing Bethany to bit her lip. _Dammit, Beth! _Astrid cursed internally. Her sister could never lie properly to their mother. Leandra's soft eyes narrowed. "Don't try to fool me, young lady. What have you two been up to?"

"We were just helping Aveline on her rounds, Mother," Bethany answered in a soothing tone. She was always the best at calming their mother down while Astrid and Carver were always too busy fighting about who had stressed her out in the first place.

A sigh fell from Leandra's lips. "I don't like the idea of you two getting into trouble. You just finished a year of servitude thanks to your uncle."

"Where is good old Uncle Gamlen?" Astrid asked curiously, looking around the room as if he were hiding under the kitchen table.

The matron Hawke shook her head. "Who could possibly know? Hopefully not adding to his debts, Maker help him."

"The Maker has better things to do," Astrid muttered before crouching down to the massive pile of brown fur panting on the carpet. "You'll scare away any of dirty old Gamlen's debt collectors, won't you Precious?" she exclaimed, rubbing the dog's belly as she rolled onto her back with glee.

Leandra smiled at the site but wasn't ready to drop the subject, crossing her arms over her chest. "Astrid, I don't want you out doing...whatever it is that you do and getting hurt, especially with your younger sister."

"Mother, I'll be fine!" Bethany protested. "Astrid, Aveline, and Varric are there to protect me. Besides, it's not as if I'm completely defenseless. Father taught me everything he knew about magic."

The woman softened at the mention of Malcom Hawke. "Alright. Just be careful. I don't want to lose you girls like…like Carver. You're all I have left."

"We'll be okay," Astrid replied with a confident smile. "And I won't let Beth out of my sight," she added with determination, thinking of the night with the rough young man in the Hanged Man. Speaking of…. "We really must go though. We said we'd meet Varric!"

With a kiss on the cheek, Astrid headed to the door, Bethany close behind. Leandra stood looking perplexed. "Wait, who is this Varric?"

"No time to explain, Mother!" Astrid called over her shoulder, and with that they were gone.

* * *

Anders

The mage repressed a yawn as he looked over at the young boy stretched out on the small wooden examination table in his clinic. Between his stress over not hearing from Karl and the amount of refugees pouring into his clinic everyday he had gotten very little sleep. However, the last thing he wanted was for the boys' parents, who were standing by with concern, to mistake the gesture for boredom rather than exhaustion.

"He's taken a serious beating," he said, spreading his magic out to detect any injuries. "You said another group of boys did this?"

The father stepped forward, running a hand over his short black beard. "Yes. He said they took all the money he had on him- a mere two coppers a Chantry sister had given him the day before last! The blighted bastards."

Anders frowned. The depravity of the city no longer surprised him, but never failed to shame him. The boys who'd beaten him were less at fault than the horrendous conditions they had likely grown up in; raised to hurt and steal and sneak just to get by.

_We can fix it,_ an all too familiar voice announced in the corner of his mind. _Not just the mages, but the common people. They must all have justice. We will make them see._

Anders hoped so anyway. He'd been in Kirkwall for a few weeks already and so far all he'd done was heal. While that was certainly important, the Mage's Plight had been expressed very little and Karl was still trapped in the Circle. He had to take action soon. But for now, the pummeled boy needed his help.

After downing a small lyrium potion, Anders summoned a surge of glowing blue magic to his fingers and began moving his hands just above the boy's skin. Slowly but surely with the mage's utmost concentration, the bruises along his arms slowly disappeared, just as the broken rib stitched back together and the concussion in his head was alleviated. Finally the boy sat up with a smile to hug his mother, who promptly began sobbing into the child's hair. The father meanwhile gave the mage a thankful pat on the shoulder while Anders let his body sag with the amount of energy depleted from his tired body.

Just as he was about to rest however, he sensed movement at the entrance of the clinic. Not the familiar pitiful sound of sick refugees, but solid footsteps, several of them. _Intruders,_ the voice inside him warned, ready to strike at any moment.

Turning around with Justice just barely in control, he confronted the group, staff in hand. "I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?"

This group was…not what he was expecting. Once again he had thought the Templars were at his doorstep, ready to drag him to the Gallows. Instead, a tall girl decked out in brown leathers with hair lighter than his own, faced him with a surprised look on her face. On her right was a beardless dwarf with gold earrings adorning his ears, not much different looking than the one Anders himself use to wear. Slightly behind the young woman was another girl, this one with dark hair and a red bandana around her neck.

"I'm just here to talk," the blonde girl, apparently their leader, said, standing her ground.

"We're interested in getting into the Deep Roads, and rumor has it you were a Warden. Do you know a way?" the dwarf asked.

_The Deep Roads. _Anders nearly cringed at the words. Why would two beautiful women and a dwarf possibly want to go down there? Something seemed off.

"Did the Wardens send you to bring me back? I'm not going." The man furrowed his brows in frustration. "Those bastards made me get rid of my cat. Poor Ser Pounce-A-Lot. He hated the Deep Roads…" The last was said in a murmur, mostly to himself, but it seemed that the leader had heard him.

She was looking at him as if he had drunk a few too many lyrium potions as a child and addled his brains. "You had a cat named…Ser Pounce-A-Lot….in the Deep Roads?"

Suddenly self conscious of her forest green eyes studying him, he shrugged. "He was a gift, a noble beast. Almost got ripped in half by a genlock once. He swatted the bugger on the nose. Drew blood too, "Anders declared proudly with what was almost a smile. It was good to think of Pounce. He had been avoiding similar thoughts since his arrival in Kirkwall.

The girl laughed, a musical sound with a hearty quality that surprised him. "What ever happened to him? Please don't say a refugee ate him. That would just ruin my night."

"The blighted Wardens said he made me too soft. I had to give him to a friend in Ameranthine, " he explained, his small smile quickly faded.

"I'm sorry," she stated, actually sounding genuine. "I don't know what I'd do if we lost our dog." The girl exchanged a meaningful glance with the dark haired girl, who had moved to her side. The dwarf also gave her a look, but one that urged her to get to the point.

"If you don't mind me asking, I always thought it was 'Wardens for life,' 'darkspawn killing forever' and all that," she continued. "How did you get away?"

The mage laughed darkly. "That's only partly true. The hopelessly tainted by the darkspawn and plagued by nightmares about the archdemon parts…don't go away. But it turns out if you hide well you don't have to wear the uniform or go to the parties."

Pity seemed to tug down on her rosy lips, and while she stared at him for a moment he feared that she would point out that he didn't truly answer her question. Thankfully however, she didn't mention it. "Grey Warden parties, huh? I wonder what those are like."

"Very doom and gloom, and someone always ends up spiking the punch bowl with darkspawn blood. Plus there are never many pretty women there," he replied, more flirtatious than he intended. He eyed her subtly then, amber eyes pausing once at her hips and again at the blush coloring her cheeks.

She coughed awkwardly then before continuing and Anders suddenly felt like a fool. She wanted to know about the Deep Roads, not about his cat and the lack of attractive women in the Wardens. Besides, what business did he have flirting with this girl? She was probably spoken for anyway. A year ago he might (probably…most definitely) have perused her, but he was different now.

"I'm part of an expedition to the Deep Roads. Any information you have could save people's lives." She gazed at him expectantly with those big eyes, imploring him for his maps and expertise.

It was tempting to help her-this was perhaps the longest conversation he'd had in months and he found himself enjoying it-but would giving her his maps really be assisting her? "I will die a happy man if I never think about the bloody Deep Roads again. You can't imagine what I've come through to get here." He gestured to the hovel they were standing in. "I'm not interested in-"

The young woman raised an eyebrow at his pause. She knew exactly what was running through his head. "The Deep Roads aren't so bad after all now, I take it?"

"A favor for a favor," Anders said. "Does that sound like a fair deal? You help me, I'll help you." He couldn't believe he was proposing this, to a total stranger, but it was his only option. If this woman thought she could make it in the Deep Roads, she might be able to help him against the Templars.

"Let's be more specific. I don't do anything involving children or animals," she joked; however there was an edge of seriousness to her voice. She wasn't playing with him.

"I have a Warden map of the depths in this area but there is a price." He began pacing and she stepped closer towards him. "I came to Kirkwall to aid a friend- a mage, a prisoner in the wretched Gallows. The Templars learned of my plans to free him. Help me bring him safely past them and you shall have your maps."

The young woman seemed to almost shiver at the mention of the Gallows but the determined expression that her face had taken on did not falter. Taking the hand of who Anders thought could only be her sister, she said, "You've convinced me. What's your plan?"

Anders could not help but feel a bit guilty. Roping another into this could be dangerous. He barely knew the girl, but to see that her pretty face behind bars could possibly haunt him forever. _You _must _save Karl. This may be the only way,_ Justice pointed out.

"I welcome your aid," he said solemnly. "I have already sent word for Karl to meet me at the Chantry tonight. Join us there and we we'll ensure no matter who is with him, we will all walk away free."

"We have a deal, Anders" she replied, surprising him. She must have got his name from Lirene. "I'm Astrid Hawke, and this is my beautiful apostate sister Bethany," she said with a grin, gesturing to the other girl, who curtsied. "And this is Varric Tethras, the only dwarf I've ever liked."

The dwarf extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Blondie."

"Likewise." Anders raised his brows but didn't question the nickname. Meanwhile the two sisters were giggling.

"Anyway, we'll see you at the Chantry and your friend can know freedom," Astrid exclaimed with a wide smile as they reached the door.

Finally the mage was alone and was able to collapse onto his stained, stiff old cot, feeling better than he had in months, maybe even in a year. A girl with an apostate sister who was willing to help his cause. And because of her, Karl would be free. It seemed almost too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, so I didn't plan on getting this chapter out so fast, but I just reeeaaaally want the story to progress! Also thank you so much to the people who added this to their alert/favorite lists and reviewed! Hope you like this chapter! I was gonna add another section with more of Ander's POV but I'm saving it for the next one. Isssh already got deep in this one and I didn't want it to be too long!

* * *

Hawke

"Oh _shit_," Astrid muttered, watching Anders writhe on the floor of the Chantry, head in his hands.

The man she'd agreed to help just a few hours ago rose from his knees with a burst of cerulean blue energy rupturing from his body. His eyes glowed and magic seemed to burst from him, thickening the air around them. He glared furiously at the surrounding templars that had come for them, reaching for his staff with powerful hands.

"_YOU WILL NEVER TAKE ANOTHER MAGE AS YOU TOOK HIM!" _a deep voice that _definitely _did not belong to Anders thundered.

Before she could even grab her bow, the mage was madly flinging spells at a speed that rivaled even her father, who had been the greatest mage she'd ever encountered- but then, she was biased. The templars, utterly astounded by the display, barely had time to react, but when they did it was certainly something to behold.

Astrid just barely ducked under the arch of a sword that was suddenly swinging near her head. A templar faced her, armor shining brightly under the moonlight pouring in through the windows, fury written plain on his face. "Mage sympathizing bitch!" he hissed through gritted teeth.

The rogue braced herself and kicked out at the man, her booted foot connecting with his jaw and sending him sprawling back. "I don't like labels," she spat, pulling out the dagger she kept in her belt. Just as the man reached back his sword for another swing, she was on him, sinking her blade into his neck and thrusting it out again. He collapsed onto the floor, shock forming in his eyes before they faded into blankness.

Astrid panted and wiped a sweaty piece of hair out of her face. She quickly put her dagger back and pulled her bow from where it was strapped behind her, preparing an arrow. She launched them as quickly and as precisely as she could, while avoiding hitting Bethany and Varric in the corner and Anders, who was in the center of all of it, lashing his hands out and summoning massive fireballs above the religious soldiers. The strange blue aura of magic that surrounded him did not fade until the last templar fell to the ground with a sickening gurgle.

The strange cerulean glow faded from his eyes and the thick coat of magic surrounding him dissipated at the sound of his friend's voice.

"Anders, what did you do?" the bearded gentleman asked, staring with shock and sadness. "It's like you brought a piece of the Fade into this world. I had already forgotten what that feels like."

Astrid moved closer, joining Bethany and Varric where they gathered just a few feet from the two men. The older mage, Karl, whose tone had been emotionless and flat like all of the Tranquil, now appeared to be on the verge of tears. Astrid was torn. She didn't want to interrupt their moment, but she needed answers. She'd killed templars tonight and she wanted to know who-_or what_- exactly she'd done it for.

"What..._was_ that?" Astrid asked.

"It's like a gateway to the Fade inside you, glowing like a beacon," Karl remarked. The girl glanced at Varric and caught a twin look of _oh please_ on his face to match her own. Maybe it was a mage thing.

Anders seemed to notice their exchange and looked around uncomfortably. "I have some…unique circumstances, yes. But Karl, what happened? How did they get you?" he demanded, brows creasing together over his amber brown eyes.

"The templars here are far more vigilant than in Fereldan. They found a letter I was writing you," the graying man answered, but he wasn't done speaking about his Tranquility. "You cannot imagine it, Anders. All the color, all the music in the world gone. I would gladly give up my magic, but this...I'll never be whole again."

Bethany was staring at the man, open mouthed with a blend of horror and sympathy. Astrid noticed her take an unsteady intake of breath and repressed the urge to cover the girl's ears and tell her that everything would be okay. Obviously things were not okay for Karl and she was not sure what to do in this situation. Karl however, knew exactly what he wanted.

"Please, kill me before I forget again!" the man begged his friend. "I don't know how you brought it back but its fading!"

The look on Anders' face was one of anguish. "Karl, no!"

Astrid stepped up then and put a hand on the blonde mage's shoulder. "Maybe we could find a cure," she suggested hopefully.

The man shrugged off her grasp as if the touch burned him and turned on her with a fiery gaze. "Can you cure a beheading? The dreams of Tranquil mages are severed. There is nothing left of them to fix!"

Astrid backed away but did not blink under his powerful gaze. He was obviously dangerous but she didn't sincerely think he would turn on her. She imagined how she would react had Bethany been in Karl's place, and she in Anders' and could feel only sorrow for them both at the hopelessness of their situation. "I see," she croaked through a dry throat.

"I would rather die a mage than live as a templar puppet," Karl interjected pitifully, accepting his fate.

Suddenly Bethany spoke up, her airy voice filling the emptiness around them. "You know what's right. Help him," she whispered, imploring Anders with watery eyes.

"I got here too late, Karl. I'm so sorry."

The mage with the sunburst on his forehead closed his eyes, almost painfully. "Now! It's fading-" Suddenly looking up at them, his eyes were once again empty. "Why do you look at me like that?"

Astrid hugged Bethany to her chest for what came next. She felt warm tears spilling down the base of her throat, where Bethany sniffled, but her eyes did not leave Anders as he approached his old friend, knife in hand.

"Goodbye," the mage murmured before plunging the blade into the man's chest. Bethany's fingers were digging into her back at that point, but she didn't wince until Anders looked up at her, his eyes immeasurable with despondency. He turned and left then, bolting out of the Chantry and leaving them surrounded by dead templars and a Tranquil mage.

Silence stretched out before them until Varric nudged the older girl's arm. "Hawke, Sunshine, we better leave before the Knight Commander gets word of this."

Astrid nodded and followed him out of the Chantry, leaving the corpses untouched. Not even she would loot dead men in the holy building that they served. She held her sister's hand the whole walk back to Gamlen's.

* * *

Astrid waited until the moon began to dip in the darkened sky and Bethany's breathing became deep and even in the bed beside hers before stripping from her sleeping clothes into trousers and a loose linen shirt, strapping on boots to match. She tiptoed out of their bedroom to the living area where Precious peered up at her with curiosity, her canine head tilting in question. The girl held a thin finger up to her lips and gestured to the front door before making her exit, the dog following quietly behind.

She kept to the shadows during her descent into Darktown, darting quickly into alleyways upon seeing strangers walking ahead. The streets were not safe alone at night, even for her. She left her bow at home but with her mabari beside her and her knife in her pocket, Astrid was not _too_ concerned. However, she was not an utter fool.

When Astrid reached his clinic her heart pounded dangerously against her rib cage like an army against a stone barrier. A mix of fear and adrenaline stirred within her veins and she briefly considered going back to the hovel in Lowtown. _No,_ she thought. _I risked my life and Bethany's for this man. He owes me at least his stupid maps._ Sighing, she knocked on the heavy wooden door. After a few minutes with no answer, the young woman cautiously pushed it open.

He was sitting at a writing desk, blonde head hanging in his hands when she entered the room. At first she thought he was sleeping, but with a start, he looked up at her with misery. "I suppose I have some explaining to do," he murmured.

"I would appreciate it," she replied. "And…I'm sorry for your loss. You seemed important to each other."

"Karl was my best friend in the Fereldan Circle. He was one of the only people who agreed with my views on freedom. I thought…I thought we could achieve freedom together; that we could show the templars that we are more than just grime at the bottom of their pretty silverite boots." He stood up then, practically shoving himself away from his desk. "And now he's dead, at my own hands."

"Anders," she whispered, moving closer to him without thinking. Realizing that she didn't very well know what to do with the majority of space between them gone, she kept her hands awkwardly at her sides. "It's not your fault. You did everything you could to free him, and he knew that. Once they made him Tranquil there was nothing else you could do. I-I did not know much about Tranquility before tonight, but from what Bethany and my father told me, it seems that Karl is much better off this way. I know at least this is what I would want, were I a mage."

The man heaved out a sigh. "You're right. It's better this way. Your father is a mage?"

"He was one," she murmured. "He died three years before the Blight."

"Templars?"

"Sickness. Nobody saw it coming."

"I'm sorry," Anders said, meeting her gaze and holding it.

Astrid felt a strange swell in her chest then and looked away, biting down on the inside of her cheek. This was too personal. She'd witnessed him put a dagger through his friend's heart not four hours ago. The last thing she wanted was to open up a conversation about her father, especially if he was what she thought he was.

"I've never seen one rival his spells until tonight actually…That wasn't normal magic you did, was it?" she asked quietly.

"I-This is hard to explain. When I was in Ameranthine with the Wardens I met a spirit of Justice who was trapped outside the Fade. We became friends and he recognized the injustice that mages in Thedas face every day."

"I've…never heard of such a thing. This being sounds like a demon, Anders," she said warily. Everything she knew about him suggested that he was a good man, and it pained her to think that he was possessed by a corrupt entity, but this sounded like a typical demonic trap. Her fingers lingered at her hip where her blade rested in her pocket.

"No, it isn't-that's not how it is. Just as there are demons that prey on the sins of mankind, there are spirits who embody our virtues…spirits of compassion, fortitude, justice."

She wanted to trust him, to help him. After all, he was aiding her in his clinic. Besides, he was kind and wanted the same things that she wanted for Bethany, just on a larger scale. Still though, Astrid could not help but be cautious. "What does this have to do with your eyes glowing?"

The man paused, appearing to brace himself to say what came next. "To live outside the Fade he needed a host. I offered to help him. "

Astrid's stomach sank with a groan. She pressed a palm to her forehead. "You _are _an abomination?I can't believe I killed templars for you! Do you realize what could happen to my sister and Varric for this? What could happen to me?"

Anders' eyes grew wide with surprise. "No! Listen to me!" His hand shot out to grab her arm but she hit it away, brandishing her blade and forcing him against the wall.

"Don't touch me," she breathed. With her dagger inches from his neck and her arm against his chest she should have felt in control, but as his brown eyes flickered blue, fear rose in her throat. Even with Precious growling at her side, she doubted her ability to kill him while he was in that Super Mage state. Her hand was shaking.

The man shut his eyes tight, sharp jaw twitching under the thin line of his mouth, waiting a long time before speaking once again. When he opened them again they were their usual golden brown. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. Please, let me explain." He stared at her, imploring her to understand, to give him a chance. There was no anger there, only desperation.

_Fuck_. Astrid stepped back, letting her hands fall back down to her sides in surrender. "Speak."

"We were going to work together and bring justice to every child ever ripped away from his mother to be sent to the circle. But," the mage crinkled his eyes in a way that made her heart thaw, "I guess I had too much anger. Once he was inside me…he changed."

"So," Astrid began, "you have a Spirit of Justice living in your head?" She tried not to look at him as if he'd just grown another appendage, although in a way he had.

"It's not like that. He's… part of me. It's not like we can have a conversation. I feel his thoughts as my own. Not even the greatest scholar can tell you where I end and he begins."

Astrid could hear the regret in his voice, clear as day. "I-I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, Anders."

He shook his head. "I thought I was helping my friend. He would've…died, I guess. If that even means anything. And he wanted to help me. He knew what mages have suffered. But my anger-when I see templars now, things that have always outraged me but I could never do anything about, he comes out. And he is no longer my friend Justice, he is a force of vengeance and has no grasp of mercy."

That was…deep. Killing him was out of the question now. Astrid couldn't do it, not while his intentions were so well meant. He could have tried to lie, or worse, kill her, but he hadn't. Backing him into the wall with her knife was stupid but she had been angry and his movement had startled her. Looking back, the spirit could have surely torn her in two but Anders had reined it in. It seemed he had _some_ control at least.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Astrid found herself offering, though she certainly did not have the means to do so. She had enough going on with the Deep Roads expedition and taking care of Leandra and Bethany, but imagining him alone down there with only the voice in his head for comfort pulled on her heartstrings. But really, what could she do? Kiss the bad thoughts away? The thought brought heat to her cheeks and she instantly batted it away. The mage seemed to have enough complications. He didn't need her help.

"You're the first one I've ever told this. Not even Karl knew. It's enough that you didn't run away screaming. Though," he looked down at the knife still in her hands, "you don't seem like the type."

"Err. Sorry." The girl shrugged sheepishly, tucking it into her pocket.

To her surprise, the man let out a short laugh, running a pale hand through his wheat hair. "I can't say I blame you. In any case, my maps are yours." Pausing as if just deciding it now, he added, "As am I if you wish me to join your expedition. If you have any need of me, I will be here."

He reached into his desk and handed her a few faded folds of parchment. As she took them, her slim fingers brushed against his and she quickly looked away, tucking the maps into her other pocket. "I better get back before my uncle and I stumble home at the same time and we both have to guess what the other was doing," she stated with a smile.

The mage grinned, his face lighting up in the process. "I wonder whose guess will be better. Good luck, Astrid."


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, this chapter gave me some trouble. I rewrote it like 3 times in a bunch of different ways before finishing this one. Buuut I hope you all like it! I was originally gonna make it longer, but I think the next chapter will just continue immediately where Hawke & Co. left off. ALSO: The time that passes in between chapters will vary. Some chapters will immediately follow each other, and others (like this one) will occur a week later. Just throwin' that out there!

P.S. The actual romance stuff might be a little slow at first, but will pick up. I dunno about anyone else, but I always felt like Hawke's pick up lines in the game were a little aggressive and too soon, especially since they're said RIGHT AFTER Anders killed his lover. Like, Hawke, slow your roll. F'REAL. But you miiiiiight just see one or two next chapter. ;)

* * *

Anders

Anders did not think that Astrid Hawke was actually going to take him up on his offer to aid her before her Deep Roads expedition; however a week later he looked up from where he was examining an elven girl's broken leg, only to find the young archer waiting by the entrance of his clinic. Her short light hair fell in messy waves around her face, and while a small smile sat on her lips, her eyelids were fluttering with exhaustion.

"Are you hurt?" he asked with concern.

"Me? Oh, no. Just a bit hungover, if that counts," she laughed.

The mage shook his head with a smile. "Would you mind waiting a bit?"

"No problem. I'm just gonna go ahead and lean right here," she replied, letting her back fall to the wall behind her and closing her eyes.

The elf on his examination table gave him a curious look but Anders simply shrugged. "Let's just fix this, shall we? Sit still please." Healing magic bloomed from his fingertip as he concentrated on her impossibly thin pale leg. The bone was small, but seemed as if it had gone untreated for a long time. He was surprised it wasn't worse.

"When did this happen?" the mage asked when the wound was healed and he was wiping sweat off his brow.

"F-four days ago, messere. I f-fell down the steps at the alienage," she answered, her eerily huge blue eyes staring at him.

Huh. Why wouldn't she have sought treatment earlier? Anders suspected instead that it had to do with the gruff looking man who had dropped her off at his doorstep that morning. The look he'd given the poor thing was remarkably harsh and completely unwarranted. The mage's mouth contorted into a thin straight line at the thought.

"Listen," he said quietly. "Be careful, okay? Take this and buy some food. It's not much but it might get you enough for a few days travel." Anders stuffed the few coppers he owned into her thin, shaky hands. "Go to the Dalish. You don't have to live in fear."

Now the girl's eyes were enormously wide. "Th-thank you! I don't know how to repay you."

"There's no need. Be safe," Anders advised.

With that she was gone, scurrying out of the clinic with barely a limp, nearly running into Astrid along the way. The blonde woman sauntered over, studying him intently. "That was kind of you. Do you think she'll make it?"

The mage shook his head sadly. "I don't think she'll even leave, but at least her belly will be full for a while."

Astrid pushed herself onto his table as if it were familiar to her, long legs hanging off of it. "This city," she murmured forlornly.

Anders remained standing. He idly rubbed the back of his neck with his palm. "I'm surprised you're back here. Things got a bit…weighty when we spoke last. Sorry."

Astrid waved it away with a motion of her hand. "You did mean it when you said I could come to you here if I needed help, right?" Her deep green eyes did not match the size of the elf girl's but their intensity spoke wonders.

_You don't have time to be running errands with this woman. You need to focus!_

Anders meant to turn her down, he really did. He opened his mouth intending to take back what he said about being there if she had any need of him, to tell her that he just didn't have time. Yet he found himself caught up in her stare, his lips curving into a slight smile at the piece of blonde hair hanging in her face and the curve of her lips, which were opened ever so slightly. "I'd be glad to help you," he said instead, the words spilling from his mouth and hitting the dirt floor.

"I'm glad to have you," Astrid replied, touching his arm softly with a smile.

His eyes widened at the gesture, but as quickly as her fingers touched his jacket they were gone and she was looking at her lap. Anders cleared his throat. "So, how was your night?"

She groaned and rubbed at her bloodshot eyes. "Bethany and I went to the Hanged Man with our friend from Fereldan, Aveline, to celebrate that she'd been made Captain of the Guard."

"How do you know the Guard Captain?" he asked in surprise. He didn't think the roguish woman was so well connected, but apparently she had more than poor apostates and quick witted dwarves at her disposal.

"It's a long story. We crossed paths while fleeing the Blight and…well, we lost a lot together," Astrid explained. The mage noted the way she looked down as she said it and tucked it into his memory to analyze later. "But she discovered the former Captain was corrupt- the prick! - and she got a well deserved promotion. So we went to celebrate and ran into a simply _marvelous_ woman named Isabela! She took out a group of men all on her own, and without even wearing trousers!"

Anders' eyebrows shot up and the girl laughed. "It was quite a sight. But she had to meet a man for a duel at the Chantry, and so we helped her kill him, along with his inept flunkies."

"That sounds familiar," Anders pointed out. "Do you have midnight bloodbaths at the Chantry often, or is this month just special?"

"I'll be content to wait a while before the next one. It was awful, just like last week. I think some believe I relish killing, especially with the stories Varric has been telling, but I truly don't. Really." Astrid's small pink mouth slipped into a frown. "How are you, by the way? I almost stopped by the other day to ask you to help me against some thugs down at the docks, but I wanted to give you some time to yourself…"

Anders' entire week had been filled with sad poor people coughing and limping in and out of his clinic and dozing in the cots lined against the back wall. He barely had time to sleep, or even eat, and when he did find time he found himself propelled to his desk, writing down declarations of freedom for mages in a sort of formal document, a manifesto perhaps. While Karl's death still haunted his dreams, he did not want to dwell on the loss, and instead focused on changing things so that no other mage would go through what he did. He appreciated her concern however. "I've been alright, thank you. But tell me, how in Andraste's name did you manage to get drunk during all of this?"

"Oh right. Well, we returned to the tavern with Isabela after the battle, and…it turns out she knows a lot of drinking games, among other things. I think she's already proving to be a bad influence on Bethany," she laughed. "But you'll meet her later, if you want to help me with something involving some slavers?"

With an effort, Anders silenced all disagreeable thoughts and suggestions that he needed to work on his manifesto. "I look forward to it."

* * *

Hawke

_Get used to Lowtown, sister. That's where we're going to stay._

Gamlen's words kept echoing in Astrid's mind as their small group trudged through the muddy streets of Darktown. How could he say that to her mother, the man's own sibling? Sure, she and Carver had fought when the other pulled an unfair move when they dueled or over decisions involving their family-Carver thought he should decide everything because he was the only man in the house after Malcolm died, but Astrid thought she should because she was the oldest, and poor Bethany was left in the corner biting her lip- but her brother would have _never_ treated her like Gamlen did Leandra.

"Astrid? We're here."

The older of the two Hawkes shook her head. "Sorry, what?"

Bethany repeated herself. "We're at the entrance to the estate, sister."

"I can't believe how close it is to my clinic," Anders noted. He had looked surprised when Astrid explained that her mother was once a noble in Kirkwall and that slavers now inhabited her ancestral home, but seemed happy enough to help. Or at least she imagined he was. Astrid couldn't read him very well and the man was not prone to smiling.

Beside them, Isabela raised an eyebrow at the decrepit old wooden door in the darkened sewer. "Yes…I hate to break it to you, sweet things, but this does not look like prime real estate, no offense Anders."

"Mother said this is just the cellar entrance. The inside should be much better looking," Bethany replied with a weak smile.

"And filled with slavers!" Astrid exclaimed, prompting a small chuckle from her companions. She turned to Bethany. "Now let's take back what may be ours, or possibly Gamlen's...but probably ours."

Bethany shook her head with a grin. "If it is Gamlen's than the Maker has a twisted sense of humor. Lead the way, Astrid."

The young woman tentatively pushed open the cellar door and peered around, seeing only blackness. Her eyes were still adjusting to the dark when she heard a blade slip from a sheath in the far right corner of the room. Without hesitation she readied an arrow and sent in flying in that direction, resulting in a sickening watery thunk and a sound like a heavy sack being dropped on the ground. "Get ready!" she hissed.

More slavers followed and thankfully after a few quick minutes Astrid could see perfectly in the dim light, enabling her to watch her newest and most voluptuous companion back flip off of one of the slavers and propel herself backwards into another, knives out behind her. She truly was superb. And an excellent drinker, as well. Hours after waking up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth and Astrid still felt mildly like she'd been beaten with a club.

Perhaps that was why it was so easy for a man to appear out of the shadows and tackle her to the ground, sending her bow flying several feet away. He was armed with a knife but with a loud grunt, Astrid hit it out of his hands. They scrambled weaponless for an unknown amount of time. It could have easily been thirty seconds or five minutes, Astrid wasn't sure. She knew only of the sweat pouring down her face and the hard ground on her back as she grappled with him, hitting and trying to kick as he managed to straddle her narrow hips. The girl let out a yelp as he fisted a large chunk of her hair in his gauntlet covered hand. With his other, he pulled out a spare dagger from the strap at his back, ignoring her slaps and the profanities spilling from her lips.

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!_ Her mind blazed with a multitude of thoughts of survival, none of them comprehensible beyond the word _FIGHT_. Just as he was lowering the blade, Astrid let out a cry, shoving her thumbs into the slavers' furious eyes. The yell that fell from his lips matched her own and the weapon soon fell from his fingers as her thumbs pressed deeper into the squishy wetness of his sockets. Though she was now at an advantage, his hands struggled at her face, trying to grab or hit whatever he could. With each passing moment her body was growing more and more tired at the battle to get him off of her, she couldn't throw him off. However, finally with a crack of cobalt light, the man slumped onto her with blank eyes and dead weight.

"Gah!" Astrid pushed the heavy lifeless body of her attacker aside.

"Are you alright?" Anders was crouched next to her, concern written on his pale face. The man's staff was still glowing with the magic that had ended her combatant.

"I-I'm fine," she panted. "I just picked a bad day to leave my knife at home." The girl let out a weak laugh and held out her hand. "Help me up?"

Anders' cool hand slid over hers, and a shiver ran down her spine. His fingers were calloused but gentle as he hoisted her up. His hands fell away and amber eyes looked her up and down, searching for any cuts or bruises. "You don't have any injuries?"

She bit her lip under his scrutiny, feeling oddly shy. "No, nothing major," she replied, though her legs were aching beneath her. "Thanks. I'm glad you made it."

The worrying look was still apparent in his eyes but the ghost of a smile haunted his lips. "Me too."

Astrid tried to shake off the weird feeling in her stomach at the mage's touch as she turned towards where her bow was lying on the dirty ground. Was she getting a crush on him? Is that what that was? _No, that's stupid,_ her brain insisted. She barely knew the man!

The girl scooped up her weapon and brushed it off with her hands, considering everything. Her whole life had been spent protecting her sister because of her magic, and looking up to her father because of his abilities. She'd never met a man who believed in freedom for mages the way Anders did, and the fact that he had kind eyes and dedicated his time to healing people was getting to her head. _You need to focus on the expedition. Coin isn't going to just fall into your pocket while you ogle at him all day,_ she pointed out. With a determined glint in her eye she joined her companions and set off for the vault of her ancestral home.

"Everything we want to know about our family is inside," Bethany murmured as they stood in front of the heavy door before them. Astrid's heartbeat quickened in her chest at the prospect of what lay just beyond.

"Well, what are you waiting for, sweetness? Open it up," Isabela suggested impatiently. "Don't you want to know if you'll be leaving me in Lowtown all by my lonesome after your big expedition?" The pirate mock pouted.

Astrid grinned as she heaved open the door. "Somehow I doubt you'll be very lonely."

The room was rather plain but large with its tiled floor and thick stone walls. It made her wonder what the rest of the mansion was like. Inside were a few wardrobes, along with a several crates and a wooden chest in the corner. _Here we go,_ Astrid thought, bracing herself. She carefully looked through everything else, stuffing a few books about Kirkwall and the Circle into her pack. Next she found a few jewels in the bottom drawer of one of the wardrobes.

"Beth, look!" Astrid exclaimed, handing the diamond and rubies to her younger sibling.

"They're beautiful!" the dark haired mage remarked in awe. "They'll be sure to help us with the expedition."

Astrid noticed the minor reluctance in Bethany's voice, and shook her head. "No, these belong to our family and they're yours now. We'll earn the money for the Deep Roads. Now let's go for the chest."

"That's what I like to hear," Isabela said with a rich laugh. Even Anders snorted at that.

Among a few random pieces of frayed rope, a good amount of coin, and an Amell heirloom sigil, was the girls' Grandfather Amell's will and testament. "Maker," Astrid breathed as her eyes scanned the page. "It's ours. Gamlen lied."

Bethany was cradling the will to her chest like an infant as their strange group walked back to Lowtown, talking with Isabela about the sort of parties they could throw their once they bought back the estate. Meanwhile, Astrid was fuming at the thought of seeing Gamlen later.

"Are you okay?" Anders asked as she kicked a pebble just a little too hard, sending it flying up ahead.

"I'm wonderful! Just thinking of ways to murder my uncle," she answered crossly.

"Know what will help you feel better?" Isabela purred.

"This should be good," Anders muttered.

"A drink at the Hanged Man."

Bethany and Astrid looked at each other questioningly. "It couldn't hurt," Bethany said. "It might even be better to wait until Gamlen leaves later to tell her."

"Why?" Astrid asked with a dark look on her face. "What do you think he would do?"

"No, I'm not concerned for mother's sake! I'm concerned for Gamlen," the younger Hawke replied.

Astrid snorted. "He deserves the tirade Mother's going to give him. But," she decided, "it might be a good idea for me to drink a bit first so he has a chance of escape should I decide to beat him."

"I honestly can't tell if you're joking or serious," Anders said, raising an eyebrow.

"Neither can I," she huffed out. "Let's go to the Hanged Man."

"Ooh, this will be fun!" Isabela exclaimed, quickening her pace to keep up with the lanky woman's determined strides.


	5. Chapter 5

Alrighty! Here is chapter five! Not a lot of action in this one, but it's pretty drama filled! Hopefully you like it! Unfortunately for these two, I'm gonna be throwing a lot of curve balls their way. Also, it's gonna get less canon, but I hope you all dig what I do with it.

AND once again thank you to everyone who has reviewed or added this to their favorite/alert list. It makes me really pumped and it's super helpful!

* * *

Hawke

"Hawke! I was just talking about you," Varric announced as Astrid and her ragtag team entered the Hanged Man. A few men sitting near the dwarf eyed her with the open skepticism of a group that just heard the lanky creature before them could take down an ogre (either that or he was already spreading the story of how she'd destroyed the Red Tooth gang by the docks). Astrid ignored them, plopping down at the stool next to him.

"Why am I not surprised?" she replied with a weary grin. "Bartender, can you bring my friends a round of drinks?"

"Oh, not me. I don't drink," Anders said quickly. In a lower voice as he sat down beside her, he added, "Justice doesn't really…approve."

"Good to see you, Blondie," Varric acknowledged before turning back to Astrid. "I take it your trip to you and Sunshine's estate went well?"

"Well in that it certainly belongs to us. But that makes our dear old uncle a bigger liar than I already thought he was," Astrid answered bitterly.

She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much that Gamlen lied about her grandfather's will. Sure, it was a downright awful thing for him to do to her mother, leaving her thinking her own parents died angry at her; but it wasn't as if part of her hadn't already suspected he'd been lying. A tiny part of her even understood why he had done it…It wasn't as if they had even been around when the elder Amell's died, and he certainly hadn't thought Leandra and her children would return as refugees. The girl didn't know what to make of the situation.

"Bartrand has always been a great reminder to me that you can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family," Varric replied, just as the bartender, Corff, set down her drink. "At least you've got me!"

Astrid laughed. "I'll drink to that."

When the girl turned to tell Bethany that she was happy to call _her_ family at least, her eyes widened at the sight of her downing an entire mug of ale just after Isabela lifted her own empty mug in triumph. At the last gulp, the girl choked and wiped her chin with a giggle.

"Bethany! And mother says _I'm_ the one who will never find a man," she exclaimed in mock horror.

"Who says you need one, Hawke?" Isabela asked with a wink. "But don't fear. We'll find Bethany one, no problem. Look at those breasts!"

The older of the two sisters smirked at the blush that formed on Bethany's cheeks. Maybe Bethany needed someone like Isabela in her life. Astrid was good for keeping the girl safe, but Isabela could help her get out of her shell.

"Oh leave Sunshine alone, Rivaini, you're gonna make her catch on fire."

"I could make her do more than that."

Astrid shook her head, trying not to listen. She was glad for Anders' sudden interference. "Your mother doesn't think you'll find someone?" he asked curiously.

"She's never said it, but I think she fears it," the girl said with a grin. Her mother's increasing worry that she would die a spinster never truly brought her down. "Bethany has always been the alluring one with her dark hair and those big…lips." Astrid took a big sip of her ale. "Mother thinks I'll die a crazy old woman with seven cats."

Anders laughed. "I could think of worse fates."

"Oh, that's right, you're a cat person. That's probably your dream." She rolled her eyes before giving him a playful smile.

"Yes, I want to die an old woman, You've discovered my deepest desire," he retorted. "Better that than with a slobbering mongrel at my side."

Astrid downed the rest of her drink to hide her grin. "You're surprisingly funny, you know that?"

"Well, I've been told that in kinder ways," he shot back with a smile. Suddenly he looked at her in that deep way of his, tilting his head slightly as if looking past her body and somewhere beyond. Astrid had to fight the urge to look down at her dirty nails.

"I had a friend like you once. Got in all kinds of trouble and dragged me along," he said finally. "Didn't think I'd be doing that again."

Astrid was taken aback. Was that a compliment or was he voicing his regret? "I…I'm glad you came around," she replied carefully.

Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. "I just hope I didn't seem too selfish when I told you about Justice…I didn't know what would happen. I figured a willing host, a friend- it had to be better than playing the demon and haunting some corpse."

"You couldn't have predicted what would happen, Anders. You listened to your heart and hoped for the best. That's all we can really do sometimes," Astrid replied sadly, thinking of everything her family had been through on the way to Kirkwall.

"Kind, wise, and beautiful. You must have made a deal with some demons yourself," the mage murmured with an almost unrecognizable flirtatious smile on his face. Oddly enough, it sat well on him. However, it disappeared with a frown and a shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't presume."

Astrid's face was burning with heat. _Presume what?_ She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ to get him to flirt with her again, but the man cut her off.

"I just…We've only just met and I feel like I know you. Am I making you uncomfortable?"

The mage was hovering less than a foot away, looking at her intensely. His amber gaze threatened to swallow her up where she sat. Meanwhile Astrid was feeling dizzy. Whether it was the alcohol or the slight waft of mint drifting off of him just under the Hanged Man's signature scent of piss and sweat, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that she wanted to see that smile again more than anything.

"You're certainly not making _me_ uncomfortable," interjected a sultry voice that was suddenly between them. Isabela eyed the two like a cat stalking its prey. "As much as I'd love to see how this plays out, there's an issue with your sister."

Astrid was on her feet in a flash, bar stool falling on the floor behind her. "Where is she?"

"Varric has her outside. She's spewing chunks in the alleyway," the pirate answered.

Astrid's shoulders sagged in relief. _Thank Andraste._ "I thought she was being kidnapped!"

"'An issue' translates to kidnapping with you?" Isabela inquired quizzically, but Astrid was already rushing through the crowd to get to the exit.

The cool night air hit her hard, but did not stop the girl as she practically leaped down the steps and rounded the corner to where her sister was sitting on the hard gravel street, Varric patting her back affectionately. "Beth!" she exclaimed, and sank down next to her.

She smoothed the young mage's dark locks across her warm forehead and hugged her close. Bethany groaned sickly against the girl's shoulder and she let out a small laugh. "What will mother say when we get home?"

"She'll probably blame you," Bethany moaned.

Astrid snorted. "Most likely. I'll think of an excuse anyway. Can you stand up?"

"Blondie and I can help you," Varric said.

Astrid peered up at the flaxen haired mage with surprise. She hadn't even noticed he followed her out. She swallowed the dry feeling in her throat and concentrated on Bethany again. "No, I've got her," Astrid insisted, dragging the girl up.

"Let me walk you home," Anders offered. "I should get going anyway."

"I, uh-alright. We live close to here. Varric, I'll see you soon! Thank you," Astrid exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Varric! Miss you!" Bethany slurred.

"No need for apologies, Sunshine. Sleep well."

The walk to Gamlen's house was mostly silent aside from a few mumbled apologies from Bethany, and crooned comfort words from Astrid. Anders was quiet and vigilant, constantly looking around for any templars or meandering thugs taking in the moonlight. When they reached the stone building in which they resided, Astrid stopped and looked up at the healer. She had always been tall and rather gawky compared to the other girls growing up, and was even more stretched out than some of the boys, but he stood a few inches taller than her, at least with his boots on, she noted, staring down at them. "I'd better bring her inside."

"Could I talk to you after?"

_Uh oh. _The words were not said in a sexy way. No, he was not even smiling. He sounded like the Revered Mother all those years ago when she requested to talk to Astrid about who had been tipping the cattle in the fields. She had half a mind to turn him down and call it a night, but instead found herself nodding in agreement.

When she and Bethany stumbled inside the tiny house, Leandra and Gamlen were sitting by the fire, talking quietly about something.

"What in the Maker's name is wrong with _her_?" Gamlen demanded at the sight of Bethany's pale face.

"She's sick," Astrid replied sharply, glaring daggers at the man. "She started feeling ill on the walk home and threw up on the street, the poor thing."

"Oh, my dear Bethany!" Leandra cried, rushing over. The younger girl sighed into her mother's embrace."Has she been ill all day?"

The older of the two daughters forced a blank expression. "No, she started retching just a few minutes ago, out of nowhere. It was the strangest thing."

Leandra looked like she was going to question her further, but Bethany let out another pitiful moan. Their mother frowned and rubbed her back. "Let's put you to bed, my sweet girl."

Astrid kissed her sibling's forehead and stood by the door of the bedroom, eying her uncle warily as she waited. Precious noticed her gaze from where the mabari was sprawled on the floor and also looked at Gamlen, though it was more inquisitive than angry. She probably thought he had some treats and was holding back on her.

"What?" he demanded sourly.

The girl merely shook her head. When Leandra returned, Astrid retrieved the rolled up parcel from their estate and handed it to her mother. "I'll leave him to you," she mumbled, and slipped back outside without a glance at her uncle. Truthfully, she didn't want to be there for what came next.

The mage was sitting on the stone steps outside the house when she returned, closing the heavy door behind her. Astrid crossed the distance between them and took a seat on the spot beside him.

"Well, Bethany's in bed and I gave my mother the will. So that's settled," she mumbled.

"You didn't give your uncle a beating while you were in there?" the mage asked, a faint smile etching his face.

Astrid smirked. "No. I'll let my mother handle it. After all, he's the one who betrayed her…Imagine spending half your life thinking that your parents hated you, all because you fell in love with someone you weren't supposed to," she murmured sadly.

"Your mother sounds like a strong woman to endure that," Anders said. "I don't remember my parents. They gave me to the Circle when I was very young."

"Anders, I'm so sorry. That's terrible." Astrid's whole life was dedicated to keeping her family out of the Circle and away from the templars. To think that others would simply abandon their own, especially someone so kind and good as Anders was…unimaginable.

He shrugged. "Most people don't know what to do when their children possess magic. The Circle is the only option for some. Bethany is lucky she had your father to train her. And that you were there to protect her."

"I couldn't do anything else. If I lost Bethany…" She had to suck in a deep breath at the thought. Carver's image flashed in her mind, his jaw clenched and dark hair wild as he ran towards the gargantuan drooling ogre that day. Losing her sister wasn't an option.

"You won't," Anders assured her, putting a hand on her knee. "You're as strong willed as you are beautiful. The templars won't get her anytime soon."

The mere feeling of his hand on her tied her stomach in tingling knots. And there was that word again. Did he really think she was beautiful?

"Feel free to keep calling me that, by the way," Astrid said boldly, summoning her old self, the girl who used to shamelessly flirt with her brother's friends to embarrass him, and could make even the meanest of farmboys blush at her passing. Bethany had the more captivating looks but Astrid had the charm.

"Strong willed?" he asked, arching an eyebrow with a grin.

Astrid laughed. "You know exactly which word I was referring to."

"Oh, I'm sure I could get more creative," the mage replied in a low voice. Suddenly though, his hand was drawn back and he stood up. "No. I shouldn't do this. I shouldn't have even said anything in the tavern. This can't end well."

Astrid let out a groan. "I _knew_ I'd regret coming back out here to talk to you. Is this the part where you let me down gently?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Anders ran a hand through his blonde mane, pacing like an animal in a cage. "You don't understand. I'll only hurt you."

"What makes you think you'll hurt me?" she asked, clearly flabbergasted.

"You saw what I did at the Chantry last week. That's who I am. You don't want that."

"How do you know what I want?" Astrid asked softly, catching his eye and holding his gaze.

The man looked away first, closing his eyes. "A year ago…maybe we could have had something. But I'm not that man anymore," he said miserably.

The girl let out a frustrated sigh at the finality in his tone. "You really shouldn't start things you can't finish."

Astrid felt…hurt. Not to mention embarrassed. _Of course_, she thought. _The one time you open up to someone, and this is what happens. _With a shake of her head, she cooled the fire that was threatening to pour from her mouth and burn the man where he stood. _It's not a big deal_, she told herself. _You hardly know him and it's better that he wanted to be honest and end it before it could begin rather than string you along_. Though somehow that didn't make her feel any better.

When Anders didn't reply, she spoke up again. "You're right. This was a bad idea. I need you for the Deep Roads expedition and I can't compromise it. Everything I care about is riding on this." Astrid stood up and approached him. "Can I still count on you for that?"

The man nodded solemnly. "I will go to the Deep Roads with you…And my offer to help you with anything else still stands."

"I would appreciate that," she replied with a forced smile. "And let's not let Varric hear about this. The last thing we need is him trying to write an epic love poem about us."

His expression remained dark and unreadable. "I'll keep my lips sealed. Goodnight, Astrid."

"You know, you really do know how to work that sexy tortured look though," the girl called out to him as he backed away.

Anders' jaw dropped and a mournful look crossed his face, as if he thought he was going to have to turn her down all over again.

However, Astrid lifted her hands up to ward off any more apologies and let out a short laugh. "I'm joking!"

The mage shook his head with a humorless laugh as he continued on his walk back to Darktown. "Not funny."

"It's a little funny," she muttered to herself with a slight frown. "But not very."

Astrid allowed her body to slide down onto the cool ground in front of the stairs leading to Gamlen's. She sat there for a long time, listening to his heavy footsteps subside and the faint screeching of Leandra yelling at Gamlen through the front door. She tried in vain to keep her mind off the way he'd avoided her eyes, face contorted with a struggle that she didn't understand. _It's better this way,_ she told herself yet again, repressing a sigh.

* * *

Anders

_Any relationship with that woman would be futile. She is not a mage and serves no purpose to your cause,_ Justice boomed as Anders made his way back to the Clinic. The spirit's arguments were useless though. It was as if her image were burned into the back of his eyelids. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw her sitting there, mouth slightly open and eyes filled with hurt. Twice he'd nearly turned around to take it all back and pull her into his arms, but each time he decided against it, forcing himself onward.

_I'm a fool, _the man thought sadly as he slammed the doors of the clinic shut behind him. He didn't bother locking them. Any common thief could pick their way in, and it wasn't as if he had anything worth stealing anyway.

Now she probably thought he was an utter prick, shamelessly flirting and then backing out suddenly. He remembered her words with a wince. _You really shouldn't start things you can't finish._

She was right of course. He should never have said anything. He had never intended to peruse anything with the young archer. He could admit that he admired her, but he never planned on acting on it. Yet seeing her in the tavern, so happy and radiant, all wit and smiles, had awakened something in him that he had thought was long gone. He couldn't stop himself from flirting. It had been _so_ long since he'd been with a woman and just talking to her was like a drug. It took all his power just to keep from asking her to join him in one of the rooms upstairs.

Not that she would have. But that was the appeal, he supposed. She wasn't the type to seek out cheap thrills or jump into bed with a man she hardly knew. This girl…was real. She had goals and responsibilities, and genuinely cared about things. But not him, not anymore. There was no way she would be foolish enough to care for him now.

That night Anders tossed and turned in his bed for hours, thinking of what he could have and should have said. However, Justice always found away to insert himself, rumbling about how Anders needed to concentrate and think of new ways to fight for the mages. Everytime he tried to relax into a vision of what may have happened had he continued to win her over, the spirit cut in with admonishments that filled him with guilt and regret. It was exhausting. In the end, Anders barely closed his eyes before it was time to open up his clinic and greet another lonely day.


	6. Chapter 6

Ahhhh! This chapter has taken waaaaaay longer than I planned, and for that I'm sorry! I got a ton more hours at work and I've been pretty busy so I've been kind of a zombie. Anywho, I hope you like this one. The Enemies Among Us quest is gonna be a sort of amain plot event before the Deep Roads. Also, Cullen is gonna be a bigger part in this than he was in the game story line. There's gonna be a light smattering of Cullen/Hawke in the future, so I hope people enjoy that!

Anyway, thanks for reading and to all of you who subscribe or added this to your favorites list! Don't hesitate to review- I'd really appreciate it. And sorry again for this taking forever to get out!

* * *

Anders

"Anders! Are you here?"

The blonde mage blinked several times, looking around him. His back ached and a yawn tumbled from his lips as he sat up in the splintered wooden seat behind his desk. In front of him was a pile of stained and ink smeared parchment filled with messy scribbles about the rights of mages. _Our manifesto_, Justice declared proudly. He must have fallen asleep while writing again.

"Anders?" a voice called out once more.

"Try telling him you're naked."

"Isabela!" the voice exclaimed, but a chuckle followed.

The mage sighed and got to his feet, shuffling towards the door. He grabbed his staff on the way, likely going to need it for whatever they wanted his help with. When he opened it, he was surprised to find not only Astrid and the busty pirate, but an elf covered in strange white markings from his chin downward.

The man, with his platinum white hair and spiky charcoal armor, looked him up and down with a faint look of disgust on his tan face, cursing in a foreign tongue.

"Good morning to you too," he acknowledged and turned to Astrid. "Who is this?"

The girl wore a sheepish smile on her pink lips. "This is Fenris. Fenris, this is Anders."

"You didn't tell me he was a mage," the elf remarked in a rough baritone, eying him warily.

"To be fair, you weren't completely honest with me when I took out the men who were after you yesterday," Astrid replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "Besides, he does a weird glowy thing too. Maybe you'll like each other!"

"Doubtful," Anders grumbled. What was she thinking bringing someone who was prejudiced against mages here? Did she really expect him to work with someone who sneered at the mere sight of him? Justice was boiling with rage inside of him. The mage had to swallow the spirit's protests with a grimace as he faced Astrid. "Can I talk to you?"

The young woman sighed. "Okay."

He took her by her elbow and steered her to his bedroom, slamming his door behind them.

Astrid looked around at his plain room with a curious expression, studying his barren cracked walls, and the rumpled sheets atop the rickety old cot where he slept. Her eyes landed finally on his desk and the papers resting on top of it. She moved closer to peer over at them, but he intercepted her, standing in front of the desk.

"Do you seriously want me to work with someone who hates mages?" he demanded, completely incredulous.

Astrid scowled. "Look, he's a great fighter and I think he'll be a lot of help. He has his reasons for not liking mages,"-she raised her hands to stop him from commenting- "and while I don't agree with him, I can sympathize."

Her eyes turned soft suddenly and she looked up at him with a pleading look on her face. "You don't have to like him, but please tolerate him? I've seen him fight and I think he's just what we need for the Deep Roads expedition."

The mage rubbed at his temples, anger disintegrating under her heavy gaze. _The expedition. _He had almost forgotten about the blighted trip she'd been planning, that that was the reason he had been fighting alongside her all these weeks.

While his attraction to her was something that he'd pushed away in favor of a platonic relationship that she now seemed to desire as much as he did, his feelings for her were undeniable. He hadn't had someone like her in his life since the Warden Commander, but this was different. Cousland had been a huge influence on him and a great friend, but she was committed to the king, and friend was the only title he'd seen her as, except maybe during the occasional drunken fantasy. But no, Astrid was _more_, so much more than that. The idea of her in the cold dark and damp recess of the earth, fighting the tainted, vicious creatures of his most frequent nightmares was suddenly terrifying to him.

He opened his mouth to advise her against going, to warn her about the dangers, but then stopped himself. She knew the dangers, she wasn't stupid. This was an opportunity for her to help her mother and sister and there was no way she would pass that up. He knew better than to try and change her mind by now. He could only do his best to make sure she got out of it safely.

"I'll work with the elf," Anders replied instead with a smile. "But only because I'd hate to see _you_ in charge of a map down in the Deep Roads."

Astrid let out a sound of protest but wasn't hiding her smile well. "I am excellent with a map!"

"Then how did we end up in a cave full of giant spiders when we went to the Coast last week?"

"I meant to go there! Giant spiders are Kirkwall's most underrated problem, Anders," she said seriously before her face broke into a full grin. "I'm glad you're still coming with us."

"It's been a while since I've thrown myself at death's door. I think it will be therapeutic," he said, only half joking. It was very probable that he could die. That any of them could. With any luck it would be the elf, who he was already dreading traveling with.

"Ooh, then you'll love what we're doing today-tracking down a missing templar recruit!"

Anders' face fell. "You're joking, right?"

Astrid

Astrid had not been joking.

Between the fog and squishy mud under her feet and the bickering between Anders and Fenris, the trek to Sundermount had not been pleasant. The only good thing about the trip so far was the cool mountain air against her skin and the salty smell of the nearby ocean. Also, she was at least grateful for Isabela's company.

The pirate rolled her eyes as Anders began to vividly describe the horrors of the Circle of Magi to an indignant Fenris. "Men. Sometimes they're no better than a bunch of schoolgirls."

Astrid laughed. "Maybe I should have asked Bethany and Aveline instead."

"Your darling sister is always welcome, Hawke, but bring Lady Man Hands and she and I would be ten times worse than that lot," Isabela replied. "That woman is _such_ a stick in the mud. I can't stand it."

"Aveline is…an acquired taste," Astrid replied carefully. Isabela had a point, but the guardswoman wasn't just any stick in the mud, she was her friend, and therefore Astrid's stick in the mud. In fact, mother had invited her to dinner tonight so she hoped she could wrap up this mission fast so that she would have time to clean up when she got back home.

"Speaking of acquiring tastes, what's with you and Mr. Doom and Gloom back there? Don't think I forgot that night you were flirting at the Hanged Man a few weeks ago. And I know for a fact it would have been easier to bring Bethany along today instead. Have you been…polishing his staff behind our backs?" Isabela asked with a smirk.

Astrid whipped around to see if Anders had heard her, but he was thankfully too busy waving his arms about and saying something about Andraste while Fenris attempted to talk over him. "No, I am not…_doing that_," she hissed, cheeks glowing pink. "Look, nothing can happen between us. He doesn't want me."

Isabela laughed. "Sweet thing, have you seen the way he looks at you? At least one of the voices in his head wants you. Let's just hope it's the fun one."

The girl's heart had skipped a beat. She and Anders had grown closer over the past few weeks, talking and laughing, almost always walking alongside each other when he came along on whatever adventure she was currently embarking on. Sometimes she dropped by the clinic to visit if she was in the area, and even dragged him out to the Hanged Man on occasion to lose at cards to Isabela and Varric. He had become a good friend to her, and one that she didn't want to lose; not just because she needed him for the Deep Roads, but because he was funny and kind, and always had something interesting to say.

Before she could let herself think more deeply on the subject, a noise broke out in the distance, echoing off the rocky territory leading to Sundermount.

"It sounds like someone's yelling." Anders was just behind her now, close enough so that she could feel the warmth of his presence and smell the familiar faint hint of mint and lyrium on him. Astrid fought back a shiver by rubbing her hands up and down her arms as if affected by the chill of the air.

"I think we've found Wilmod," she replied.

"Doesn't sound like he's doing well," Fenris observed at the sound of another yell.

"Maybe we should hurry."

The group arrived at the small clearing that hosted the young templar recruit just in time to see a tall burly man with light curls, adorned in the signature silver and scarlet armor of the templars, grab a younger looking darkhaired boy by the shoulders.

"Andraste be my witness, Wilmod, I will have the truth from you now!" the senior templar bellowed, shaking him like a ragdoll.

"Mercy, ser! Mercy," Wilmod begged in response. The poor boy looked about Bethany's age, with dark hair and pale skin that made him look especially fragile against the hazy grey landscape. She immediately felt a twinge of pity for him.

"Were it that easy," growled the man in response.

Astrid's mouth fell open as he delivered a knee into Wilmod's gut, sending him sprawling on the ground, all pleas ignored. The man continued to horrify her by unsheathing his sword and aiming it just below the younger templar's chin. "I will know where you are going, and I will know now."

"Have you lost your mind! Get away from him," Astrid demanded, stepping forward. An arrow was already strung on her bow, ready to be fired should the clearly corrupt Chantry warrior make any move to harm the boy or charge at her party.

The man's sharp jaw tightened and he cut a glance at her through narrowed eyes. "This is templar business, stranger."

However, before she could retort back, the tense air around them was filled with dark, hysteric laughter. Wilmod was rising, backing away with a twisted grin on his pallid face. Suddenly, the innocence was gone and Astrid could no longer remember how she could have compared him to Bethany.

"You have struck me for the last time, you pathetic human. To me!" he screamed, holding his arms out. A flash of light exploded from him and they were faced with not a weak templar recruit barely out of boyhood, but a ghastly, violet creature with hollow glowing eyes and a hunched form. Similar figures rose around them, so close that Isabela nearly bumped into Astrid as she stepped away from one.

"Alright. I _may_ have spoken too soon," Astrid called out to the now lone templar as the creatures swarmed around them.

Fenris, Isabela, and the templar slashed at demon after demon, sending them back to the ground that they had rose from. Meanwhile Anders and Astrid stood close by each other, shooting of spells and arrows quicker than lightning, except of course when Anders actually _did _shoot lightning. Astrid wasn't sure what to compare that to, but let out a whoop of celebration as the creature struck by it lit up like a candle before dying at their feet. However, though they were quickly falling, fiery rage demons kept appearing around them, slashing with flaming hands and burning everything within reach.

"Do demons have stuff we can take after we kill them?" Isabela asked as she dug her dual daggers into one of the snarling creatures summoned by Wilmod.

"I'm afraid not," Anders yelled over the cacophony of the fight.

"Damn," the pirate pouted before fighting on.

Suddenly, with a well placed slash from one of the demons and a groan from his lips, their templar associate fell to the dirt just before Astrid sent a killing arrow into the beast's flaming orange neck. He lied there, clutching at his side in agony as the others continued fighting unaware, but Astrid let out a gasp. "Anders! Help him!"

"The templar?" The mage demanded, looking at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"No, the rage demon." Astrid rolled her eyes. Still, Anders stood motionless, looking as if he'd prefer the bloodthirsty demon on his side than the man with the sword. Astrid groaned. "He's helping us!"

"For now. Later he'll be dragging me away in chains," Anders grumbled, yet he summoned beryl healing energy to his fingertips. "Oh, the things I do for you."

Astrid snorted. "Oh, you poor dear. Come to Gamlen's later and I'll make it up to you," she offered before sending of another arrow into the chest of a demon that was getting close to the templar as he climbed back up to his feet.

Anders' lips formed a wry grin and he cocked a single brow at her words. The impact of what she'd said and how it sounded hit her like a ton of bricks and she blanched nervously.

"I meant that as an invitation to dinner! My mother is making stew. Aveline is coming as well!" Astrid clarified with a laugh.

Astrid was vaguely aware of her companions joining together after the last of the enemies fell, but her concentration was on Anders as his expression turned regretful. "As much as I'd like to see what Aveline is like when she's not killing things, I really have to go back to the clinic. Lirene has a few of her assistants working there but I feel it's unfair to leave them there while I enjoyed a hot meal with friends."

"You know, you're looking tired lately. Maybe it would do you some good to have some food and relax," she persisted, staring at the bruise colored lines framing his warm brown eyes.

He smiled regretfully and shrugged. "You know what they say: no rest for the wicked."

Now it was her turn to raise a brow. The man never drank and spent all his time healing people; compared to her and Isabela, he was a saint. "What do you know about being wicked?" she asked in a sort of challenge, putting a hand on her hip.

"You'd be surprised," he replied in a low voice, leaning intoxicatingly close.

Somehow she didn't doubt him. Astrid's heart jumped at the mere proximity of his body to hers and the way his amber eyes bore into her. However, before she had a chance to say something that would surely complicate things, the templar approached them, standing tall and looking outraged.

"I _knew._ I knew he was involved in something sinister!" the man exclaimed.

For a moment, she thought he was talking about Anders. _Did he know about Justice? Could he sense it?_ She was ready to jump to her friend's defense before she realized that the man was gesturing a heavy gauntlet at the thing that was once Wilmod.

"Yet you still confronted him alone," the girl observed, eyebrows shooting up.

There was definitely muscle tone under all that armor, sure, but if he had any idea of what kind of dark things it seemed Wilmod had gotten into, it was foolish of him to approach him without help. The man was either very reckless or very confident. Perhaps both.

"I didn't think he would be so…dangerous. How is this even possible?" he mumbled, mostly to himself as he took in the number of dead creatures around them.

That was a good question. Yet another piece of the ever growing puzzle involving the templar recruits. If the templar Kerren were not still missing and if Wilmod hadn't met such an end, the case would be almost humorous. How Astrid managed to get involved in things so deeply when all she wanted to do was earn some coin was beyond her. Though secretly, part of her enjoyed helping people.

Plus it gave her more things to do before the Deep Roads expedition. All this kept her mind off of it, for which she was thankful. There wasn't much time left before they would be departing Kirkwall for the dwarven tunnels, but she wanted to spend it doing something productive. Maker knew if she wasn't doing this she'd be sitting in Gamlen's house or the Hanged Man imagining the cavernous darkness and the snarling monsters that awaited her below. With a shudder, she turned her concentration back to the matter at hand.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Though I can't say this will make finding Kerren any easier." Astrid let out a sigh.

"You're looking for Kerren?" he inquired. "His disappearance is part of an investigation I was doing on some of the recruits who have gone missing." Suddenly, he seemed to remember his surroundings and the circumstances of their meeting as color crept up his neck and onto his cheeks. "Forgive me, I am Knight Captain Cullen. I thank you for your assistance with Wilmod. I did not realize we had similar goals."

Astrid felt her lips curving at the sight of his blush and the mere fact that a templar was apologizing to her. It was strange to see someone she'd been trained to fear look embarrassed. It was like seeing a terrifying animal do something silly, like sneeze.

"I'm Hawke. Astrid Hawke. Kerren's sister asked me to find him and I was pointed in this direction to Wilmod. Do you know what's been going on?"

Cullen shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't. I was hoping to confront Wilmod quietly, out of sight, as he was the first recruit to return, but as you can see, things did not go the way I'd imagined."

"I wouldn't call it a quiet confrontation," Isabela cut in. "We could hear you from down the hill. Very aggressive. Did I mention I like a man who takes charge?"

"It seems like you like anything that can walk," Fenris muttered beside her.

Astrid had to bite her lip to keep from grinning at the Knight Captain's burning cheeks. Saving the poor man from replying to Isabela, she asked, "Do you have any idea what may have happened to Wilmod to make him…er-that way?"

The Knight Captain's hazel eyes traveled to the twisted corpse that was once a young templar recruit and drifted over to Anders, or more precisely, the magic staff at his back. There was no mistaking the hard look on Cullen's face as he finally met Astrid's eye. "If it's not too much trouble to you, this is formally a templar matter and I would prefer to speak to you in private."

As agreeable as the blushing and politeness was, the man was still a templar and could very well take Anders back to the Gallows to be locked away. Or worse. Astrid thought of the emptiness in Karl's tranquil eyes and barely suppressed a shiver. That was _not_ happening to Anders. Not as long as she was capable and armed.

"I assure you, my companions are trustworthy. If the healed wound on your chest means anything, it's that my friends are in control of their abilities and can help with this investigation," Astrid replied carefully, meeting Cullen's eyes with a determined glint in her own.

The templar hesitated. "I am…thankful for that, and my appreciation will not go unnoticed," Cullen replied with a pained sigh and a nod at Anders, whose tight lipped expression was impossible to read. Astrid on the other hand let her shoulders sag with relief. _Thank the Maker he healed him._ "But some templar matters cannot be ignored and I would rather speak to you later."

If he wasn't going to turn in Anders she'd go all the way to Antiva City with him if he asked her. Astrid agreed and made plans to meet him after dinner at the Hanged Man to further discuss the missing templars. With a curt goodbye, Knight Captain Cullen was gone, heading down the long path back to Kirkwall and the Gallows.

"I shouldn't have healed him," Anders grumbled.

"Healing him is what saved you!" Astrid retorted.

"More like your pretty mouth, sweet thing. Now you've got a date with a templar," Isabela said. "Did you see the way he wielded that sword? Makes me wonder what else he's good at."

"He's all yours if you want to find out. He's not exactly someone I can take home to meet the family," Astrid replied with an eye roll.

"Who said anything about taking him home to meet your family? All I'm saying is get a room at the Hanged Man, drag him up there, take off your-"

"Spare us the details, please," Fenris interrupted dryly. "Also, we should move on. The sun is going to set and we've got a lot of walking to do."

"Ah, finally a voice of reason. I knew it was a good idea to recruit you, Fenris," Astrid said with a smile. "Let's get out of here."

Anders was still adamant on not joining her family and Aveline for dinner, but walked Astrid home as Fenris and Isabela headed towards Hightown-him to his mansion, and her to the Blooming Rose. None of them had said much on the descent from Wilmod's camp, aside from Isabela commenting on the breeze of the ocean nearby, but it wasn't until now that the silence felt uncomfortable to her.

"What do you think about what happened to Wilmod?" she asked quietly as they passed a few merchant's who were packing up their wares at their stalls.

Anders kicked a stray pebble as they walked, considering the question. "I'm not sure. It's not unheard of for non mages to become possessed, but I don't know how it could have happened. I'm sure the _Knight Captain_ will have his own theories."

He said the words Knight Captain as if it were a disease or a gruesome insect. Astrid snuck a glance at him through her thick lashes and saw that his mouth was pressed into a hard thin line. The girl bit her lip, feeling guilty for dragging him into this. If he'd only seen the desperation on Kerren's sister's face than maybe he would have been more willing. As it was, she felt like she owed him.

"Oh, he'll probably just spend the whole time cautioning me against keeping company with dangerous, frightening mages," she joked, nudging him with her shoulder, trying to lighten the mood.

Anders chuckled but it wasn't as full as his usual laugh that made his eyes crinkle in the corners and brightened his whole face. They were stopped now, just outside of Gamlen's old hovel.

"Astrid," he began, lightly taking her calloused fingers into his warm hand. She looked at him and saw a certain tenderness flash upon his face for a moment before disappearing under his furrowed brow. Anders let out a low sigh. "I suppose it would be foolish of me to tell you to be careful."

Astrid smiled up at him. "Because I'm always careful?"

He grinned. "Because no one tells you what to do."

The girl let out a laugh. "I only wish everyone else in Kirkwall could pick up on that."

"I'm sure they'll know soon enough." Anders gave her hand a squeeze and released it. "But I think you should be wary of this templar. I don't trust him."

She widened her eyes in mock surprise. "You? Not trust a templar?"

He gave her a serious look. "He could put Bethany and the Gallows and jail you for the rest of your life, Astrid. Or worse, you could both be executed. He saw that I was a mage today and he knows you sympathize. I just…I don't want to see you get hurt. By anyone."

Astrid inhaled sharply. She opened her mouth searching for something to say, but fell short. The part of her still reeling from Isabela's claim that he wanted her was dying to throw herself at him, but the quiet, rational side of her remembered the way he'd rejected her just a few steps away only a few weeks ago, making her stomach sink. In the end, the rational part of her won and she took a small step back, putting distance between them.

"I…appreciate that," she replied slowly, watching his eyes dim and his expression become neutral, all the while wanting to throttle herself. "Thank you for coming today, and for putting up with Fenris. I know you two see things differently, and it-it means a lot to me."

Anders smiled weakly. "You've been a good friend. It's the least I could do."

Her whole body was warmed by the statement and Astrid felt there was nothing she could do except drag herself inside before she ruined everything by saying something they'd both regret. "I suppose I should go inside. Aveline will be here soon and I'm covered in blood."

"Right. Of course. Please, tell me how the investigation goes, and if you need me I'll be in the clinic." The mage gazed at her with concern. "Don't hesitate to see me if you need help."

"I will," Astrid promised and watched him walk off towards Lowtown under the dusky setting sun. She let out a long sigh, hoping this wasn't becoming a theme in their friendship.

Bethany peeked her head outside from the front door at that moment with a smile. "Is that Anders leaving? Why didn't you invite him to dinner?"

"I did," the older sister said with a miserable sigh.

"Oh." The dark haired girl took in the archer's stained armor and unkempt hair and gave her a look of sympathy. "I'll distract mother so you can clean up. Let's go inside."

"Thanks Beth," Astrid replied, smiling gratefully at her sibling.

She still had to speak with Cullen later, but at least her mother would have nothing to harass her about during dinner. Thank_ the Maker for small favors.  
_


	7. Chapter 7

So this chapter is definitely lacking in the Anders department, but hey, the guy does have a clinic to run. Don't worry though, my few but lovely readers, the next chapter will have a heavy dose of the 'Ders. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Astrid

"Aveline! It's so lovely to see you," Leandra greeted as she opened the door for the Captain of the Guard.

Aveline smiled and held lifted a hand that was holding a wrapped loaf of bread. "You as well, Mistress Hawke. Where should I put this?"

"Oh, thank you dear. I'll set it on the table." Leandra took the loaf from their old friend and set it down next to the steaming pot of stew already waiting to be served.

The guard looked over Leandra to the two Hawke sisters. Bethany was standing by the fire with a warm smile while Astrid was leaning against the door frame to the siblings' room, trying not to sulk _too_ badly about it not being Anders standing in her kitchen with a changed mind. Oh well. She was glad to see her old friend nevertheless.

"Bethany," Aveline acknowledged, "Hawke."

"Does no one know I have a first name?" Astrid complained with a teasing grin. She was only half serious however. She preferred that thugs only knew her by her last name. _Hawke:_ it made her sound tough, fearsome even. Or at least she liked to pretend it did.

"That apostate mage calls you by your first name," the copper haired woman pointed out.

"_I _have a name too, you know," Bethany bristled. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, looking adorable.

_I've got to remember to teach her how to be menacing later,_ Astrid noted. She was Carver's twin after all, so it really shouldn't be that difficult. Carver could frown up a storm. And Maker, it wasn't pretty.

Aveline rolled her eyes. "No. I was talking about Anders."

Astrid cringed as Leandra looked up with wide eyes. "Anders? Who is that, darling?"

The guard captain's brows twisted in confusion and she deigned to answer for her. "You've never met him? Anders is the Grey Warden that has been helping-"

"Helping Bethany brush up on her healing spells!" Astrid interrupted, practically yelling across the small living space.

"Bethany," the matron of the family gasped. "You didn't tell me a man was helping you with your spells! How long has this been going on?"

The young mage's mouth fell open in shock, eyes moving to Aveline's suspicious glare to Astrid's look of innocence and finally settling on their mother. "Uh…not _too_ long." She looked over at her sister for help.

Astrid did not like the way Leandra's eyes lit up as she said the word "man." She could almost see the words "marriage" and "grandchildren" floating before the aging woman's eyes. Great. As if her and Anders' friendship wasn't weird enough already. Now her mother would want him to help bear her grandchildren…with Bethany.

"He's, er, a very old, wizened mage. Seems to know quite a lot. Father would have liked him," Astrid lied, at least about the old wizened part. Now that she thought about it, her father probably would have liked Anders. The thought brought a little pain to her chest with the knowledge that they could never meet.

Leandra's face fell at the idea of marriage crumbling. _Sorry mother!_ "_Oh._ Well I'm sure he's a great tutor anyway."

"Darktown's finest," Astrid reassured her, elbowing Bethany.

"Yes, yes. Of course," Bethany confirmed.

Aveline was glaring daggers now at the older Hawke sister, making the girl's skin suddenly feel warm and itchy. "It's ah, very hot in here. I think I need some air. You look rather hot, too Aveline. Why don't you join me?"

The guard simply grunted and practically dragged the young woman out the door.

_Oh shit,_ the girl thought in a panic. She quickly ran through Aveline's moves in her mind, desperately trying to figure out if she could take her in a fight. The girl was quick and a fantastic shot but the guard was a battering ram of power. _Maker help me._ Astrid gulped as the door slammed behind them.

"Hawke, have you even told your mother about the Deep Roads expedition?" the woman demanded.

"Uh. You see, I've been slowly working up to it," Astrid replied sheepishly.

Aveline frowned. "It's only a few weeks away! When were you planning on telling her?"

"Tomorrow?"

"A likely story." The copper haired woman pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "You need to tell her. Tonight."

"Aveline, you know she won't be happy about this. She's going to worry herself sick and put all her energy into begging me to stay."

The woman was unyielding. "Maybe she'll talk some sense into you."

Astrid sighed exasperatedly. "I need to do this. You should know by now that I'm not going to just sit here and let an opportunity pass. The expedition will pave the way to a home in Hightown for Bethany and Mother. It's the expedition or watching them wither in Lowtown until the templars lock us all away."

"Still, Hawke. Leandra deserves some notice at least. After all she's been through…" Aveline trailed off, undoubtedly thinking of their rushed departure from Fereldan.

Guilt pooled in the base of her stomach. The guardswoman had a point. The memory of her mother sobbing over Carver's dead body flashed before her eyes; Leandra screaming that it was all her fault as Astrid stood by in total shock and disbelief at what had happened. Carver had been young and handsome; invincible. He'd acted before she knew what was even happening but in her mother's eyes she'd let him down. Astrid knew that she didn't mean it, not truly, but she would never forget the pain in her mother's face and the way she'd spat the words at her: _You should have stopped him!_ _How could you just let him run ahead? _The memory still haunted her, crept up on her if she had too much time on her hands or if she let her mind drift towards thoughts of Lothering and the Blight.

_Will she scream at Bethany like that if I don't come back? Will she break down and never leave the house while Gamlen gambles away more of their property and everything goes to shit?_ Astrid shuddered. It was easy to talk with Bethany and Varric and imagine the jewels and the clothes and the luxurious furniture they'd own in Hightown, but in a way it was so much easier to imagine how horribly it could all go.

_Don't go there_, she reminded herself. _The expedition is the best thing for them._

"I'll tell her," Astrid agreed. "But only because you'd kick my ass if I didn't."

Aveline snorted. "Don't deflect."

"I'm not joking. You would definitely kick my ass, Aveline," Astrid laughed.

"Probably," the guard replied finally with a shrug.

Dinner was pleasant. Gamlen had been spending less and less time at the house since the revelation that he had conned Leandra out of her rightful property, and his absence was appreciated by all. It would be easier to tell her mother about the expedition without her uncle sitting in the corner making snide remarks; though he hadn't made many recently for obvious reasons. The man was simply too easy a target for the Hawke sisters' snarky rebuttals. Even Bethany couldn't resist.

Astrid ate her stew slowly, savoring the warm but watery taste despite it not coming close to anything Leandra had cooked in Lothering. Times were harder now and she was grateful for the few vegetables and the small pieces of meat that her mother had managed to buy at the market. She was also grateful for the bread that Aveline brought, stuffing her face with it every time the woman gave her a pointed look and a glance towards Leandra. Finally though, as her mother gingerly pat her face with a handkerchief at the conclusion of the meal, Astrid spoke up.

"Mother, there's something I need to tell you," the girl said, a little too loudly in the small space.

Leandra instantly frowned, her whole face darkening with grim anxiety. "What is it? Is there a warrant for your arrest?"

"No, not today mother."

"Are you…" Leandra's expression became unreadable. "Do you…" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "prefer the company of women?"

Astrid's cheeks flushed bright red as Bethany giggled. "No! What made you think that?" she demanded.

"It's just been a long time since you've had a young man in your life, dear. Besides, you've always been a bit of a…tomboy. If you are, I understand, darling. Everyone always thought your great aunt Wilhelmina was-"

Great. Even her mother noticed her love life was lacking. Astrid groaned. "Mother, no. I like men. This is about me going down to the Deep Roads on an expedition."

A thick silence stretched between them that encompassed the entire room as Leandra's face slowly crumpled with horror and confusion. "The Deep Roads…but they're filled with darkspawn. You can't!"

"There will be less darkspawn there because of the Blight. There's only a brief window before-"

"How long have you been planning this? Why didn't you tell me? What is this expedition even for?" Leandra demanded in breathless outrage.

"It's for profit. There are so many ancient valuable things down there just waiting to be discovered. I plan to pay our way into Hightown with whatever we find there," Astrid explained.

Leandra didn't seem to notice that a few of her questions were ignored. "We? Who is we? Bethany, are you involved in this?"

Bethany bit her lip. "Define involved…"

"No, she's not," Astrid denied. "She's known about it, but I made her keep it from you. I just…I didn't want to worry you, mother. I know it was wrong, but after everything in Lothering I couldn't bear to see you upset."

The matron Hawke drew in a deep breath, reigning in her emotions. "I am glad you finally told me, but I am asking you: please do not go."

"Mother-"

Leandra shook her head. "How could you even consider going down to where those beasts live after what happened to our Carver, or Aveline's Wesley?" she demanded, voice shaking.

Astrid glanced at her friend, but the stern woman was looking down at her lap, her lips slipped into a slight frown. She apparently wanted nothing to do with the conversation, beyond forcing her into it, though Astrid couldn't blame her. In all the time that she'd known the warrior woman, Aveline had never spoken of her dead husband unless prompted to, and even then her comments were short.

"I'm going, mother," Astrid replied quietly. "There's no way you and Beth can ever live in your old estate in Hightown or be nobles unless I go. We can't live here with Gamlen forever…as tempting as it is," she added with a smile.

Leandra sighed, rubbing her tired green eyes in defeat. "You're an adult, so I suppose there's no stopping you. All I ask is that you leave Bethany home."

"_What?"_ the dark haired sister demanded.

"You're the youngest, Bethany. I can't let my baby go to the Deep Roads. I won't allow it."

"What if I want to? What if I don't want to wait around up here for the templars to take me?" Bethany declared.

Astrid could barely contain the gaping look she gave her sibling. She had had no idea that Bethany actually desired to join the expedition. She would never force the girl to go with her in any lifetime, and was not even planning on asking if she would want to. She just assumed that going into an endless amount of intertwining tunnels filled with darkspawn was not on her sister's 'to-do' list. But if Bethany was to go, who was Astrid to deny her? The girl was an adult and could make her own decision. Both of them were.

"She has a point," Astrid said. However, the look on her mother's face made her add, "Though there are a few weeks yet. We can work things out later."

"Fine. Maker knows you do what you want anyway. But Bethany, we're discussing this later." Leandra sighed and the two sisters exchanged a small victory smile. Even Aveline looked relieved that the truth was out at least. The details could wait, but the Deep Roads expedition was settled and coming up soon. Meanwhile, Astrid still had other business to attend to.

* * *

The first person she notticed in the crowded Hanged Man was Varric, of course. Perhaps it was the magnetism of his chest hair displayed under his leather duster, or maybe the way his presence simply demanded to be noticed wherever he was, but her eyes caught his in the back of the room and he gave her a nod. Surrounding him were half a dozen angry looking dwarven men, all speaking _at_ him, rather than _to_ him, at once.

Astrid glanced at him curiously but decided to linger by the bar and order a drink. As close as they'd become since they'd met, the dwarf's business was his own and it was mostly private, even to her. Slowly though, the group that was gathered around her friend began to filter out, grumbling to themselves as they passed. Astrid heard quite a few "lousy nuglicker"s along with the name Bartrand. Well, that was no surprise. Astrid had met Bartrand only once and there was no question of who the better Tethras was.

Finally Varric approached and eased into the chair beside her as if it was made for him. With his precious repeating crossbow Bianca at his back and a wry grin on his face, the man was simply too smooth for his own good. Astrid wondered idly if others saw her that way and had to repress a snort. _Yeah, not in this age._

"What's got their beards in a twist?" she inquired after a sip of her ale. "Skip too many Merchant's Guild meetings?"

Varric shook his head in disgust. "No. I actually went this week and I've still got them breathing down my neck, this time because of my idiot brother. Bartrand decided to rally the men who are on the expedition by insulting three of their mothers and threatening to leave any possible dissenters to golems."

Astrid could not help but let out a loud laugh as Varric rubbed his temples. "Bartrand certainly seems to know how to inspire people he'll be stuck in dark caverns with for weeks."

"Yeah, and I have to be the one to reassure them that he's not going to abandon them or feed them to the darkspawn," Varric said. "He should be thanking the Ancestors that he's got a smartass brother to bail him out of these types of things."

"Oh Varric, I'm sure he appreciates you deep, deep, deep, deep-"

"Hawke-"

"Deep, deep deep down," she finished with a grin.

Varric snorted. "I'm just going to count him as useless and rely on you, Blondie, and those maps of his to lead us down there."

Astrid smiled involuntarily at the dwarf's nickname for Anders. Despite the hard line of his jaw, the intensity of his gaze and his manner, the name suited the Grey Warden. It certainly matched the unruly golden hair he kept pulled back from his face, but also hinted at a side of him that most rarely got to see. Sometimes when they were playing cards or talking while she helped him clean up in the clinic, she imagined an Anders that could have had a few different nicknames and whose jokes and grins came easily. He'd told her enough stories about his time in Ameranthine with the Wardens that suggested there was more to him than a struggle for mage's rights.

Suddenly she thought of the way he'd taken her hand earlier when he'd walked her to Gamlen's and her heart thudded against her chest like a caged bird. Tomorrow she'd tell him about the meeting with Cullen and they could laugh off all the seriousness brought on by the missing templar case and the irony that she was even helping the order, and have some peace before the expedition. Maybe she'd bring him some left over stew...

"Hawke, as much as I love to see you grinning like a fool, a lost looking templar just walked in and I think we both know who he's looking for," Varric stated.

"Huh? Oh." Astrid's face grew hot as she slipped out of her reverie.

Sure enough, Cullen was standing at the entrance of the tavern warily scanning the crowd with his deep grey eyes. Instead of the signature heavy silver templar armor with the flaming sword emblazoned on the breastplate, the man wore a dark green shirt and brown trousers. A sword remained at his side and with his wide shoulders and the lean muscle that curved underneath his sleeves he was no less imposing.

"How do we _both_ know who he's looking for?" Astrid wondered. "Or that he's a templar?"

"I could say that I have mysterious ways of knowing these things…but I actually ran into Blondie on my way over here and he gave me a description." Varric shrugged.

"What did he have to say?" Astrid asked. She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.

"Blondie didn't seem too keen on him," the dwarf stated neutrally, watching Astrid closely.

The Knight Captain caught her eye now and was parting through the sea of people drinking and dancing and laughing. He was almost tough looking enough to fit in but was too clean cut to look like anything but a fish out of water among the bar's shady patrons. He politely edged by a group of swarthy men in heated conversation and avoided getting a tipsy-looking woman's drink spilled down his front.

"Yeah, Anders doesn't trust a templar. I can't possibly imagine why," Astrid remarked. "I think he's alright enough though," she added quietly as Cullen approached.

"Hello ser," she greeted with a smile as he reached their spot at the bar."Varric, this is Knight Captain Cullen. Knight Captain, this is my friend Varric Tethras."

"Cullen will suffice, serrah Hawke," he replied warmly. The templar shook Varric's hand and took a seat. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," the dwarf replied with a crooked smile.

"And Hawke suits me fine, Cullen," Astrid replied with a grin. She thought of asking him to call her Astrid, but why start telling people to do that now? "Actually anything is better than 'Fereldan Dog,'" she amended with a laugh.

Cullen's pale face lit up. "I thought your accent was familiar. What part of Fereldan are you from?"

"I moved around some, but Lothering was my home for years," Astrid replied. Her smile widened at the knowledge that he was one of her countrymen. "Whereabouts did you live?"

"Kinloch Hold," he answered rather awkwardly. Astrid could have slapped herself. _Well, duh_. Of course he lived at Circle Tower. "But I grew up in South Reach."

"Ah, I lived there for a few months. We could have been neighbors!" she exclaimed.

Cullen grinned. "Small world. Why did your family travel so frequently, if you don't mind my asking?"

"My father was...restless. He loved to travel. But something about Lothering made him plant his feet down," she said fondly. "He died only a few years later, but at least he was happy."

"I-I'm sorry for your loss-and for Lothering. I was sad to hear of it's falling," he said, shaking his head.

Astrid shrugged. Lothering was the closest thing to home that she'd ever known, but the loss of Carver would always be greater and more prominent to her than the destruction of the town. The only things that made her miss Lothering were the memories she'd had there with her family back when Carver and her father were alive with them. "I'm just glad I reached Kirkwall with my mother and sister. Thing could have been far worse."

Cullen nodded solemnly. "Life in Kirkwall is easy for few, but there is opportunity here that was lost in Fereldan. I'm glad to be here as well."

Right. Astrid was sure there was a lot of opportunity for templars here in Kirkwall. There were more than twice as many mages here as there were in Lothering, and the opportunity to lock people like her sister away never seemed to be lacking. With the reminder of what exactly the almost deceivingly pleasant man did for a living, Astrid no longer felt like chatting. "So tell me, have you seen something similar to what happened to Wilmod occur before?"

"Normally we only worry that mages will fall victim to possession. I have heard of blood mages or demons in solid form who could summon others into unwilling hosts." Cullen shook his head in disbelief. "I had not thought one of our own would be susceptible."

Varric raised his thick eyebrows. "A templar abomination? You don't see that every day."

"Do you think there are blood mages in the Gallows that are causing this?" Astrid wondered. In the back of her mind she knew Anders would probably unhappy that she asked this, but it was entirely possible. It had certainly brought trouble to the Order and would create unease among the ranks. Actually it was a bit clever, though dark and twisted.

"Anything is possible when it comes to mages. They are as volatile and unpredictable as the weather," Cullen replied with a deep frown. He looked older then, adding at least ten years to his age, though he was probably just a few years older than she was. It was his eyes, she decided. There was both prejudice and pain embedded into their stony surface. Astrid recognized that look. He wasn't the type who was simply raised to fear what he didn't understand. There was more to it than that.

"However, I don't think that the templars are being harmed by mages in the Gallows," Cullen added.

"Could it be someone in the Templar Order itself? Like Meredith?" Astrid asked, deciding to ignore his flawed opinions concerning mages. She'd heard many things about the Knight Commander, and none of them were flattering. "The recruits I spoke to believe she is conducting some sort of deadly ritual."

"What? That's preposterous," the Knight Captain replied with a chuckle. "Recruits can be worse than a weaving circle with their rumors. There is a vigil before new templars take their arms, but the gravest danger they face is falling asleep."

"What horrors they put you through!" Astrid exclaimed with a grin.

For a second she wondered if the Knight Captain would take it the wrong way and lecture her about the strict duties of the Templar Order, but to her utmost relief, he let out a hearty laugh. "And you probably thought it was all scowling at meek apprentices and looking grave outside the Gallows."

Her flaxen brows shot up in surprise at his jest and she found herself smiling in embarrassment despite herself. Truthfully, that was exactly what she thought. In fact, she'd also been convinced of worse, which made her feel uncomfortable under his kind gaze. He was certainly set in his ways but it seemed unlikely to her that he would ever be outright cruel to mages. With a cough, Astrid got back to business.

"Well I can check Meredith torturing young templars off the list, but you insisted on meeting here without the presence of one of...my more unique companions." The girl didn't use the word 'mage' for fear that he would suddenly remember that he should be down in Darktown arresting Anders. "You must know something more, Cullen," Astrid pointed out, holding his gaze. She needed him to trust her. There was no way Keren would be found while they sat around in a tavern avoiding facts.

The man nodded and looked around them before moving closer to her and Varric. A clean soap smell radiated from him, she noticed, and his eyes had a touch of blue in them. "I have tried to be discreet in my investigation, but I fear my discretion has done nothing to aid the missing recruits." The man paused and let out a low sigh. "Now that Wilmod is deceased, the only one left is Keren. They were last seen together at the Blooming Rose. But I had no luck interrogating the…young ladies there. I doubt they know anything about magic or demons."

"A burly man in a position of power didn't have luck at the Blooming Rose? Kid, you must be doing something wrong," Varric said to the flushed templar.

"Well. I guess you'll have to go back with more persuasive help," Astrid declared. "Varric, are you with us?"

"W-what? I would never ask a lady to go to a brothel, Hawke," Cullen stammered. "There's no need for you to put yourself in that position."

Astrid let out a laugh. "Well, it's nice that someone around here sees me as a lady, Cullen, but really, it's fine. I'm sure Isabela is already down there, probably elbows deep in-"

"Hawke, even I don't want to think about that," the dwarf interrupted with a sour face. "Let's go."

"Alright, alright. Let me just pay for my drink," she muttered, reaching for her coin purse.

However, Cullen was already digging a few coins out of his pocket and holding them out to Corff the bartender, who had been standing close by cleaning a glass. _Probably listening in, the jerk,_ Astrid thought, eying him suspiciously. Whatever. The only gossip the man seemed to have was about the bird populations of Fereldan.

"Please, allow me," Cullen said warmly as she opened her mouth to protest.

"That's generous of you," the girl murmured, watching his face heat up furiously.

"It was nothing," the man mumbled, walking ahead to clear a path for them, leaving her standing by the bar with a quizzical expression.

Varric gave her a very pointed look to which Astrid simply replied with a shrug. _No idea what his problem is._


	8. Chapter 8

Hey thurrrr. I tried to get this out sooner because I'm really eager to get to the Deep Roads stuff! Also, once that happens I'm 99.99% sure that I'm going to write another story focusing on Bethany. I just really like her and I wish there were more stories out there that are about her. So hopefully some of you will be interested in that!

Anywho, thus begins my first attempt at making sh*t get a teeeeeensy bit steamy. There will be more of that in the future as well. For now this story is T, but it maaay get a little bit M in the future, depending on whether I think it looks too awkward or not. Lolz.

Also, a note about Anders and Justice: I know he's all like 'blah blah blah we're the same!' but I just don't see it that way. It seems like there is a definite line where Anders ends and Justice begins, at least at first. Or I think so anyway. I feel like there a definitely moments that portray them as being separate, like when Anders tells Hawke in Act II that Justice doesn't approve. My Anders is gonna fight Justice a little.

thank you again to all subscribers and people who favorited this. It means a lot and really motivates me! YOU'RE TOO GOOD.

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Astrid

The Blooming Rose was certainly…something.

Scantily clad elven women with far too much pale skin showing beneath the dim lights meandered about with serving trays as men and even a few women sat at tables, drinking and talking loudly to one another. Gaudy statues, vaguely sexual paintings, and scarlet red curtains decorated the brothel, along with the trim and haughty looking men and women who were leading customers into private rooms upstairs. Astrid took it in with wide eyes, letting the desperate and mildly pathetic nature of the place sink in.

…And promptly saw Gamlen sitting by the bar, nursing a drink in one hand.

"Andraste's ass. You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, slapping a hand to her face in disgust.

"What is it?" Cullen inquired concernedly, hovering at her side.

"Do you see the scruffy looking old man at the end of the bar who's leering at the woman next to him?"

"Yes."

"That would be my uncle."

The templar looked scandalized. "Oh….I'm sorry."

"Ugh. Me too." Astrid let out a grumpy huff of breath and promptly headed for the mousy haired woman at the center of the room who had been staring at them expectantly since they'd walked in.

"Do you need something, honey?" the woman asked, looking her up and down with distaste.

Astrid's eyebrows shot sky high at the woman, who put a little too much attitude in the word _honey_. Discarding any notion of friendliness or nonchalance she said, "A couple of templar recruits went missing. They were last seen here."

The woman was unperturbed. "You'll have to be more specific. We do a lot of…business with the templars."

Astrid didn't dare sneak a glance at Cullen for fear that he would implode with embarrassment. She wondered though, if he knew his brothers in arms frequented brothels. But then, what if _he_ did? That was something she didn't want to think about. Pushing the thought away, she began to resume her talk with the rude worker; however the Knight Captain himself spoke up.

"This is serious. I don't believe you understand the gravity of this situation, miss," he said in a loud authoritative voice. "A young templar may be dead."

She sighed and beckoned them over to the bar. "Fine. I'll take a look at the books."

The group followed, with Astrid facing the opposite direction as her uncle. It would be easier to pretend she never saw him than explain to her mother why she was at a whorehouse. What strange paths her life seemed to take.

"What a charming woman," Varric remarked quietly, giving Astrid a grin as the mousy haired woman flipped through the pages with an ugly frown. The girl rolled her eyes and fought back a gag.

"We're looking for Wilmod and Keren's records," Cullen told her.

"Hmm. Let's see…Ooh Wilmod came here _a lot_."

Varric chuckled. "Yeah, I'll bet he _came_ here a lot."

Astrid gave him a curious look. "What? She just said that. Oh…ewww."

"Are you sure he had time to be a templar?" the woman with the books asked, looking soley at Cullen. "You on the otherhand, I've never seen. I'm Viveka, by the way," she told him, looking up at the tall man through long lashes, standing straighter with her chest out.

"N-nice to meet you," Cullen said nervously.

_Oh give me a break._ "Who were Keren and Wilmod seeing here?" Astrid didn't even bother to hide her glare. She could flirt with him on her own time if Cullen came back to the stupid place. As it was, Astrid wanted to be done with this and get to bed before sunrise.

Viveka sneered at her before looking down at the records. "The both of them last saw…Idunna, the exotic wonder from the east," she replied flatly.

Astrid raised her brows as if to ask: _are you serious? _

"It sounds a lot better than 'the tramp from Darktown," Viveka said in response. Apparently she wasn't a fan of 'the exotic wonder.' "She's upstairs, third door to the right."

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Honey, I can write volumes on the things I know. But unless you want to know Wilmod's favorite position, I think you have what you need." Viveka folded her arms, shutting down on questions.

_Fine. I didn't want to talk to you anymore anyway,_ Astrid thought as she and her companions made their way to the stairs. _And your hair looks stupid._

"I like whores," Varric mused as they reached the second landing. "They've got a lot of spunk."

Astrid let out a mock gasp. "How could you say that in front of Bianca?"

The dwarf lovingly reached out to pat his crossbow. "She knows she's the only woman for me."

Cullen gave her a quick quizzical glance but Astrid simply shrugged. There was no explaining that relationship to anyone.

As they reached Idunna's door Astrid was faced with a conundrum. Should she knock or just barge in? Finally, she decided to knock. She wasn't in the mood to see just how exotic Idunna really was. After a few seconds a low and mischievous "Come in" echoed through the door.

The small group stepped slowly into the dimly lit bedroom where a slight woman wearing deep violet lipstick and a dress of several pink and purple hues stood, smiling confidently at them. Idunna, presumably, had shoulder length mahogany brown hair and fair skin that was nearly translucent. If you looked closely she wasn't truly beautiful, or very exotic for that matter, but Astrid could understand the appeal. She certainly had curves under her tight dress, along with a slim waist and the confidence to flaunt it.

"Idunna right?" Astrid asked. "Do you remember 'entertaining' a templar named Wilmod? He had dark hair, was pale, and...well, a little creepy actually. Or maybe Keren?"

"Wilmod, Wilmod…that doesn't sound familiar," the prostitute said innocently with a coy smile, her icy blue eyes dancing towards Cullen and Varric. "What are your names?"

Astrid was sick of whores and their charades. Did she have the word 'IDIOT' stamped to her forehead or did these women actually think she couldn't resist their charms?

"Idunna, I'm sure this act is very lovely for all the men who come here to spend time with you, but I'm already bored. Tell me what happened to Keren and WIlmod," Astrid demanded.

The prostitute's eyes widened with rage for a moment before slipping back into their innocent façade. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

Idunna turned and moved towards the bed, her eyes moving towards it alluringly as Astrid, Cullen, and Varric followed. She sat down on the luxurious bed and moved her thin fingers across it seductively as she stared deeply at them, appearing almost as if catching all their eyes at once. "Questions are so boring," she purred. "Why don't we have some real fun?"

"Hawke. Go easy on this lovely…creature," Varric mumbled, his voice in his smooth storytelling voice.

_Ugh._ Was he serious? She was worse than Isabela when she tempted men into buying drinks for her at the Hanged Man. Except Isabela could at least pull it off.

"You should listen to your friend," Idunna advised, giving her a predatory gaze.

Astrid didn't like that look. Not one bit. Something felt off. It felt warmer in here, the air felt thicker. Astrid could vaguely feel sweat pooling uncomfortably at the small of her back.

"We have to ask her about Keren. What's your problem?" the archer demanded, pulling at the collar of her jerkin to combat the crawly humid sensation on her skin.

"He's right," Cullen said at her left. "Surely someone so radiant could not have had anything to do with the missing recruits." The templar's voice was deep and husky in her ears.

A holy warrior calling a woman in purple lipstick radiant? There was no way Idunna was that appealing. Were all men so eager to throw themselves at any woman who could string together a few lines and stretch out on a bed? Actually, Astrid didn't want to know.

"I'm here on business. Keren. Wilmod," Astrid snapped, hating how dry her throat felt, how clammy her hands were at her sides. The sooner they were out of the damned place the better. How could Gamlen stand the humidity?

"Answer one of my questions first. Who told you about little old me?" Idunna asked, holding a hand to her chest.

Astri'd lips parted to tell her that it was none of her business, but found herself caught up in the prostitute's stare. Her emerald eyes grew heavy and she found herself entranced by the almond shaped outline of the woman's eyes, of her soft lips and slender, fair neck.

"It was…Viveka. She showed me…her books," Astrid exclaimed in horror, unable to stop the words from sliding from her mouth.

Idunna smirked. "That wasn't so hard, was it? So Viveka sold me out, did she? That drab, pathetic little street rat. She will be dealt with." She approached Astrid, whose body seemed to be frozen in place, and leaned close. "Just do one more thing for me. Draw your blade...and bring it gently across your throat," she whispered, her cool breath tickling Astrid's face.

Astrid found her fingers grasping her dagger and unsheathing it from her side. Her arm lifted without her volition as she struggled to combat the trance Idunna had drawn her into. Astrid's mind raced with thoughts of fighting magic, things her father had taught her years ago. It felt longer now, like centuries, as the tip of her blade brushed delicately against her neck. She was digging it in deeper now and blood was rushing to the wound as Astrid's head pounded. The sting of her throat as she slid the blade further was enough to make her break eye contact with the whore and she called out.

"Cullen-do something!" she shrieked.

"You will not harm her, blood mage!" a voiced boomed suddenly as the templar seemed to regain his senses. A blue light and a heavy energy fell upon her and Idunna and sent the dark haired woman sprawling back, falling to the floor.

"How did you...oh shit!" Idunna hissed in shock.

Astrid's dagger clattered to the floor and her hands flew to her neck, which was bleeding heavily. Thick red blood was cascading down her throat and staining her burgundy jerkin. Without a word, Cullen was at the bed, tearing a thick piece of blanket off and bringing it to Astrid. "Hold this to the wound, it will stop the bleeding."

Idunna was scrambling to her feet and making towards the door when the sound of Varric cocking back an arrow in his crossbow filled the room. "Don't take another step, woman. Bianca is very jealous and she's not pleased."

"Spare me, messere!" Idunna pleaded, her head hanging low in defeat.

"What kind of magic was that?" Astrid demanded, holding the cloth tightly to her wound and glaring fiercely.

"Blood and desire in equal measure. An art I learned from…elsewhere. Please don't kill me." For the first time, Idunna looked humble, weak even. If she acted like that from the beginning perhaps Astrid would have actually believed her innocence.

"You're going to answer my questions, now. And if you use magic I'll let Bianca do her worst," Astrid growled, glancing at Varric.

"Hawke, you need medical attention. Let the Order handle this," Cullen advised, looking worriedly at her throat.

Astrid shook her head. Her wound was small, just barely longer than an inch, despite its heavy bleeding. It could wait. She had things to settle with Idunna.

The blood mage didn't seem to care who Bianca was, and nodded, not wanting to risk her death. "Tarohne put me here. To send biddable templar recruits to the sanctuary. Three Spear Alley in the Undercity." Astrid nearly snorted. And Idunna was mad about Viveka being a snitch. She wondered what this Tarohne would think. "I enchanted Wilmod and Keren weeks ago, but after they left these walls I know not what came of them. Please, let me live! It was all Tarohne's idea."

"Who is this Tarohne?" Astrid asked, ignoring her plea for now.

"She put me up to this. She said we can recreate the ancient Imperium. That mages can rule again, not serve. She said the templars cannot hold against us if we stand up and fight."

Cullen stiffened at that statement, eyes growing steely. Even Astrid frowned at that. All she wanted was for her sister and Anders to live equally as she did. She wanted to see Bethany get married and have children in peace; to never worry that Anders would be taken from his clinic in the dead of night. Why was it that a few power-hungry people had to always ruin it for everyone else?

"What about this sanctuary? How many mages are there? Is it d-, ah,-defensible?" Astrid was trying to concentrate but her vision was growing cloudy.

"People go in and out all the time. Sometimes a handful, sometimes more. There are traps. Magical traps. There's a hidden switch in the back. It turns them all off. Th-that's all I know," Idunna replied shakily.

The room was spinning now and the cloth at her throat was soaking. "I-I still think you're a bitch," Astrid mumbled. "But I can't…kill you. Maker, I need a healer. Cullen, bring her to the Gallows, let the templars deal with the exotic…wonder."

"That can wait. Let me bring you to a healer," the man said with a frown.

She shook her head. "Varric can. Idunna will escape." The girl wobbled, and she put a hand on his solid chest to steady herself as he gripped her elbow with a warm hand. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart as his blue grey eyes studied her. "Thank you. I'll find Keren first thing tomorrow…"

"Hawke, stay awake. Varric, bring her to a healer quickly. I'll deal with that one," the Knight Captain said. He gave the girl a final regretful look before turning back to the blood mage.

"You've got it, Prince Charming. Come on, Hawke," the dwarf said, offering a shoulder for the girl to lean on.

Astrid's legs were going weak and her fingers felt numb. She had no idea how they would make it to Darktown.

Anders

Anders had been pacing around his clinic all night. After putting out milk for the poor, bone thin cats that tended to scrap around the area, he had been on his feet constantly, unable to shake the restlessness in his bones.

He'd tried to write a few more pages of his manifesto but stopped after just a few paragraphs, feeling that they were inadequate. For once the man wished there were patients that needed his assistance so he could keep his mind busy. Instead, all he could think about was that templar; how close he'd been to getting arrested, and the way the man had conned Astrid into meeting him alone.

Anders wondered how she was doing, wondering if the man was boring her to death with warnings to stay away from dangerous apostates as she'd joked he would. Worse, he wondered if it was all just a sick ruse to arrest her without her friends to protect her. After all, harboring mages was almost as severe a crime as being one. Were they taking her to the Gallows, kicking and screaming while he stood there in his clinic, motionless like a mouth-breathing idiot? Maybe he should stop by her house and see if she was home, or ask Bethany for her thoughts on the situation. But of course, Bethany might not even know. It would be just like Astrid to keep it from her sister so as not to worry her, despite it being safer for her to have someone in her house know that she was out with a potentially dangerous templar.

_STOP! _Boomed Justice suddenly. _Enough about this woman! Why do you worry so? She is not a mage and has nothing to do with our cause._

Anders sighed, wondering how he could explain it to the spirit, when he could not even explain it to himself. Instead he thought of the Grey Warden whose body Justice had controlled back in Ameranthine.

_What does that have to do with-_

But the spirit quieted at the image Anders was trying to sum up. His memory of her was weak, but he could still picture Kristoff's wife. She was beautiful, in a classical Orlesian sort of way, with her frail pale body and honey brown hair that fell against her shoulders, two braids pulled back from her face. He couldn't quite recall her name.

Memories. Justice's memories. Kristoff's memories. They all flooded Anders' mind at once. He saw a woman adorned in white, smiling brilliantly at an altar with tears in her eyes, heard a silky whisper close to his ears under a lazy moon, felt the pull of two illuminating cerulean eyes. He saw her again, looking at him, no, _Justice_, through bitter watery eyes. _Aura. _The name reverberated through both his body and mind, making him tremble. In an instant however, the sensation was gone and he was left gasping and sweating.

_You feel for this woman…in that way?_

"I…I'm not sure. I've never felt that way before," Anders murmured quietly. Did Justice _fall in_ _love_ Kristoff's wife while he had inhabited his body?

_I was confused_, Justice explained, usually booming voice faint_. What they had…_

Before the man and spirit could analyze this further, the door to his clinic flew open with the force of someone kicking it. Anders reached for his staff, but there was no need as Varric and Astrid stumbled in, the girl looking horribly pale.

"Blondie, you've gotta help her," Varric panted. Anders' eyes traveled to her throat and the bloody cloth she was weakly holding to it. Astrid's half lidded eyes were tired and pained as she struggled to stand up straight.

"How did this happen?" the mage demanded, closing the distance between them and taking her hand that held the soaking rag so that he could look at the wound and she could lean against him for support. It was small but close to an artery. He was surprised she hadn't fainted or bled out.

"A blood mage forced me to do it. Rude, huh?" Astrid whispered hoarsely, her pale lips twisting into a small smile as she looked up at him.

Anders' brows furrowed. He wanted to know exactly what happened, but there was no time for questions while blood was still slowly leaking from her throat. Without a word, he scooped her up and headed for the nearest cot.

"At least ten pounds is armor," the girl mumbled, letting her head fall against him. Anders wasn't about to complain about having her weight in his arms. He'd imagined this moment more than a few times, only without all the bleeding and without Varric in the room. That certainly put a damper on things.

The mage chuckled slightly as he set her down, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes. Her lips twisted into a slight smile at his touch, but against the ghastly paleness of her skin and the bloody mess that was her neck, it was a grim sight indeed, but nonetheless endearing.

"You're going to be okay," he promised, staring at her hard under the light of the few lanterns in his clinic.

"I-I trust you," she croaked out, following it with a wet cough.

_You shouldn't,_ he thought sadly, but he selfishly was glad to hear it. Anders swallowed the lump in his throat and set to work. He grabbed a bag filled with ointments and potions that he'd bought at the market last week and leaned over her to examine the injury.

The man dipped a long finger into one of the several jars in the bag and procured a glob of a healing salve. He gingerly rubbed it around the wound, producing a sharp hiss from Astrid's lips.

"This will sting a bit," he said.

"I noticed," Astrid bit out, closing her eyes as he continued rubbing it in.

"I'm sorry," Anders whispered. He hated to see her like that, grimacing in pain. But it had to be done if she was to heal. "Drink this while I bandage you up."

He pushed a health poultice into her fingers and reached for his bandages and tape. It wouldn't completely close the injury but it would ease the pain.

"Can't you just magic me better? Like poof! All healed!"

"I could," he said honestly with a chuckle. "But it's important that I clean the wound. If I just 'poofed' it shut, it could get infected. I want to make sure it gets proper treatment."

Astrid didn't reply, swallowing against his cool fingers brushing against her throat as he taped the gauze wrappings over it. Anders smoothed it over her flushed skin with shaky fingers, trying and failing not to meet her eyes, to not think about how soft her skin was. Without his mind's consent, his hand slid up her neck and past her jaw, to twine his fingers in her hair and cup the back of her head as his thumb traced her cheek.

His amber gaze met her eyes, warm and green and so, so _open._ She was blinking slowly and tiredly, fighting to stay awake, but looking at him in such an honest and vulnerable way. "Thank you," Astrid murmured softly.

Anders watched her for a moment, taken by the innocence in her face. The bold and audacious girl who he'd seen kill demons with a single arrow to the forehead and gut gang members like fish . Astrid looked tired, but peaceful.

Suddenly a throat was cleared behind them and they both recoiled, looking away from each other. "So I take it she's going to make it, Blondie?"

"She'll live for many more of your stories, friend," Anders replied with a smile.

"I think that deserves a pint!"

"As long as it's on you," Astrid chimed in, grinning lazily.

"But," the mage said. "I'm still wondering how exactly this happened," Anders said, motioning to Astrid's throat.

"Well you see," Varric began. "Hawke, Prince Charming, and I were led to question a beautiful woman of the night known as Idunna, exotic wonder of the east, the fabled prostitute who had charmed her way into the beds of countless men and women across all of Thedas; known for her wide eyes, and enormous-"

"Woah," Hawke interjected, slowly sitting up in the cot. Anders reached out a hand to help her.

"-knowledge of blood magic," Varric continued. "The temptress easily gained the favor of the strong and silent Knight Captain, and even the incredibly witty and remarkably handsome dwarf, but the resilient Hawke was unimpressed. However, when our hero grew impatient with the cunning Idunna, the prostitute summoned a powerful spell channeled by lust and blood, and commanded her rival to cut her own throat."

"Which I did," Astrid admitted with a scowl. "I can't believe she actually hypnotized me, even for just those few seconds. I thought I knew enough about magic to combat it."

"She must have been a powerful mage," Anders said. "Still, I would have expected the _templar_ to be able to handle it. His training revolves around being able to ruin mages where they stand."

"He smote her magic when I alerted him to what was happening," Astrid said in defense of the man. "She had us all fooled. But Cullen is bringing her to the Gallows, and I found out the location where the templars have been taken. I plan on going tomorrow. Will you join me?"

"Of course," Anders said without hesitation. "But how will 'Prince Charming' feel about that?"

Astrid shrugged. "If he has a problem he can stay at the Gallows. I need you."

_I need you._ Anders nearly groaned in frustration. As a healer, sure, but he wanted it to mean more. Why did he ever turn her down all those weeks ago?

_Because she's a distraction, _Justice pointed out.

Oh right. _But a beautiful distraction_, Anders thought longingly, watching her get up. She stretched her arms out and a flash of skin revealed two dimples at the base of her back before her jerkin slipped into its proper place. _Andsraste's knickerweasels…_

_ She aids the templars!_

_ Not often_, Anders persisted as she turned to smile brightly at him, looking her usual composed self, aside from the blood still coating her skin and clothing. Astrid no longer looked the vulnerable patient, instead standing tall and confident, even as she let out a yawn.

"I suppose it's time for me to go back to Gamlen's," the rogue announced with a sour face. "Though I don't think he'll be home yet…"

"I'll walk you," Varric offered.

Astrid thanked him and turned back to the mage, who was standing awkwardly a few feet away, rubbing the back of his neck with a rather clammy palm.

"If you hadn't been there tonight…" Astrid trailed off, shaking her head. "Thank you. I…you-you're a great friend."

Anders wanted to tell her that he was an awful friend; that great friends didn't push away the people they care about the most and then pine after them for ages afterward. More so, he wanted to tell Varric to just go to the Hanged Man so that he could push her against the wall and kiss her until her lips bruised, and then heal those wounds as well.

Instead he gave her a wry grin. "You're saying that now, but when the next holiday rolls around you'll beg to differ. I'm just the _worst_ at giving gifts."

Astrid smirked but raised a fine brow in a way that said she saw right through him. "You know, I'm starting to realize why Aveline gets so cross with me when I deflect with humor."

"It's my one defense against you," Anders replied, sounding more miserable than he'd intended.

Astrid paused then, opening her mouth once before shutting it abruptly. "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Anders," she said finally, before slipping out the door and into the shadows of Darktown.

The dwarf meanwhile shook his head with a small smile before following in her wake. "You've got it bad, kid. Do yourself a favor and listen to your heart, not that voice in your head."

Anders sighed, standing alone in the shoddy dirty clinic that he called home. _If only things were that easy._


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, first I am soooo sorry to everyone who has commented and followed. I've been MIA because with class, my boyfriend, and my duties working for my school's newspaper I just haven't found much time. Things are finally cooling down now though and I'm going to try to write a chapter a week.

This chapter took me ages to finish. I wrote the first half when I was creative writing constantly, and the second half after a long period of only writing essays and news stories. Sorry if it reads a little awkward. Anyway, I hope you like it! Please comment or follow if you do! I'd love to hear about how people feel about it.

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Anders

"Perhaps the demons will find one of you suitable," hissed a woman that had to be this Tarohne that they were tracking.

Anders wanted to slap a hand to his forehead. He'd spent all day with the blasted Knight Captain of the templars, an extremely lascivious Isabela, and that blighted elf Fenris, fighting off demons on blood mages in Darktown, just to face a crazy woman in indigo lipstick who thought deals with demons would somehow pay off.

"Always the demon thing. Can't you people say no?" he asked with a sigh.

"Like you should talk," Fenris muttered under his breath. It was out of earshot of Cullen, or _Prince Charming_ as Varric had called him, but irritating nonetheless. The mage shot him a venomous glance. His deal with Justice was different. The former slave was just too busy holding a grudge against a mage that Anders didn't even know to understand otherwise.

"I am not some hopeless waif that ran crying to a demon-I sought them out," the blood mage spat, gesturing wildly with her hands like a true maniac.

_You poor fool,_ Anders thought wearily. If only more people knew the dangers of dealing with demons….Moments like this kept him up at night, made his mind buzz until he had to get out of bed and write something, anything to contribute to his manifesto. _How did I get dragged into this? _The man wondered tiredly as he gripped his staff tighter, waiting for the inevitable time that the enemy mages attacked.

There was a snort to his left as Astrid stepped forward, looking ever the fearless leader, blood and who knew what else on her boots and her bow in her hand.

"Yes, I'm sure you're very bold and tough and whatnot, but should you turn yourself in now the templars may spare your life," the girl stated, glancing at the Knight Captain for confirmation.

The man paused for a moment before nodding reluctantly. Anders could not help but notice a few beads of sweat making its way across the man's forehead before being swatted away. _Interesting_. Either the man was experiencing some serious stress or he had serious body issues. Anders partially hoped it was the latter of the two.

Cullen's presence irked the blonde mage. He didn't like the feeling of being scrutinized or monitored; Nor did he like way the man's eyes had brightened upon meeting Astrid at the Gallows or the way he insisted on going ahead to open every door for her. He had feared that the Knight Captain posed a threat to his friend, however it seemed Anders had read his intentions wrong….Not that that made him feel any better.

Tarohne sneered. "The templars? We will destroy their entire pathetic order! If a few more templars fall to demons we can seed chaos in their ranks." Cullen's grip tightened on his bloodstained sword and Anders felt himself inching closer to Astrid. "How many abominations can they discover amongst their own before it drives the Knight Commander mad?"

Anders was…almost impressed actually. That would certainly be effective against Meredith. However, the plan would have been put to better use if it hadn't been revealed to the high ranking templar standing before them. Blood mages…they never learn.

"How dare you…" Cullen growled. "How dare you unleash demons on honorable men and expose them to your own twisted perversions!" The templar raised his sword.

Anders was ready to pull Astrid back at the sudden movement of the burly templar, but the girl instead, to Anders' horror, reached out to put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Cullen. Relax," she murmured, her face close to his ear. With a long blink, the templar stopped.

"Are you ready for the demons to take you?" Tarohne asked them with a smug smile, grey eyes shining dangerously.

Astrid looked equally dangerous, fingering an arrow in the hand that wasn't touching the templar, and meeting the blood mage's gaze with a determined glint in them. "Try to give me to your demons."

If there were any doubts about Tarohne's mental stability, they were certainly confirmed when she challenged Astrid by summoning a handful of abominations around her small followers. The archer did not hesitate as she reached for her bow and fired an arrow into the blood mage's neck, sending blood sputtering in all directions as Tarohne fell lifeless to the ground.

The remaining blood mages were also easily taken out by the ragtag group, especially with an enraged templar set on avenging his lost recruits fighting beside them. It wasn't long before all enemies were dead and Isabela was standing above Tarohne, looking at her with shame.

"It's a pity she didn't focus her talents elsewhere," Anders offered, trying to reach out to the pirate.

"What? Oh no, I was just thinking that it's a pity she had such poor taste in lipstick," Isabela replied. "Purple, really?"

"Dreadfully tacky. It seems to be a Blood Mage thing" Astrid agreed with a grin as she collected her arrows from the corpses lying around. "But I'm afraid we have another matter at hand."

The girl gestured to the shirtless figure hovering in the fetal position six feet above the ground in the corner of the room.

"Keran," mumbled Cullen as he stared in horror.

In a burst of light, the young man suddenly fell onto the ground, landing on his knees in the dirty Darktown area. Astrid extended a hand to the templar recruit, who took it gladly and got up on shaky legs. "Who are you? Is…is it over?" he asked.

"I hope so," Isabela muttered. "If I get any more blood on my boots I'm charging you for a new pair, Hawke."

Astrid rolled her eyes at the pirate. "I'm Hawke. Your sister sent me to find you, Keran. Cullen is here as well."

"Knight Captain? Thank Andraste. I thought The Maker had abandoned me!"

"I once experienced something similar at the hands of blood mages, Keran…but the Maker helped me as well," the Knight Captain contributed solemnly, head slightly bent.

_Hmm. _Anders scratched his chin idly. "I think I know what you're talking about, and I believe it was the Hero of Fereldan who helped you."

The templar froze. "Where did you say you were from, mage?"

"I didn't," he replied, folding his arms over his chest.

That was it. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, and Anders finally realized what it was. Cullen had been stationed in Kinloch Hold, more specifically during Uldred's takeover. While Anders had been on the run at the time, he had heard all about the atrocities that occurred in the Circle. He couldn't really remember Cullen but he had to have seen him in the tower in between escape attempts. And there was that story Cousland had told him during one of their many discussions about the Circle, about the desperate templar who had been trapped while his friends had been killed. His former companion had not described the man but Anders had a feeling he had strawberry blond hair and a stupid goatee.

"Uhhhh, let's get back to the matter at hand," Astrid suggested, subtlety inching between them. "Do you remember how you got here, Keran?"

"I was with a lady. And then things got fuzzy. Nightmares then. On fire for days, a demon laughing. The naked lady with her razors…in my chest. I'd awake and hear screams. Maybe my own? I'm sorry, it's all a tangle in my head," the young man said, looking away forlornly.

"What happened to him is unfortunate," Fenris contributed, studying Keran before looking back at Astrid. "But how do we know he is not possessed?"

The girl looked towards Anders, her eyes beaming with curiosity. Her lips parted to form the question but the mage already knew what she was looking for. He stepped forward, fingers brushing against hers as he passed. "Well, there's one sure way."

Without warning, he hurled a ball of electric blue energy at the templar recruit, sending him stumbling backward, limbs flailing as the young man uttered a startled cry of protest. The mage whipped around in time to see the Knight Captain flush angrily and step forward at the same time Astrid forced herself in his way. Anders raised his hands in the air to show that he had no malcontent….at the moment anyway. "If there was a demon in there, it would have defended itself. Looks like he's clear."

Everyone looked at the mage and back at Keran with mixed expressions from curiosity to mild disinterest. Astrid held Cullen's gaze for a moment longer until he nodded and lowered his weapon. She let out a sigh before helping the recruit to his feet. "You've been through enough, Keran. Let's leave."

Keran, however looked fearful, turning to Cullen. "You heard that I was alright, ser, right? This-this won't affect me going back to the templars, will it?"

The rest of the group politely disbanded, focusing their attention on looting the bodies. Meanwhile, The Knight Captain sheathed his sword back into its hilt and looked down somberly at the young recruit. Anders knew that look. He had seen it on the first enchanter the first time he was sent to solitary confinement; Cousland wore it when she said that her time at Vigil's Keep was over. If he thought back far enough, he could see it on his mother's face as the templars took him away. Or maybe he just wished she'd looked that way. For a brief moment, Anders found himself feeling sorry for a templar.

Astrid

"You okay?" Astrid asked as Anders kicked a pebble into the darkened hall ahead of them. They had been walking for a while now and would be heading back into the main area of Darktown very soon if she recalled correctly.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine," he answered glibly. "Just thinking about our wonderful day with the Knight Captain."

Astrid rolled her eyes, not even bothering to look back to see if Cullen heard. While it seemed like the templar had been trying to lead the group earlier, barging ahead through every door before her, he now remained at the rear of the group, speaking with Keran. "Glad you had fun. Very cute, by the way, shooting a spell at the templar recruit we just saved right in front of Cullen."

The mage grinned. "Cute? I was thinking more….daring, or dashing."

Astrid laughed quietly. "Excuse me for not swooning. I was too busy thinking about how I'd be going to jail for defending you against the Knight Captain of the Templars."

"You…would have defended me?" Anders asked.

_I'd do anything for you,_ she thought. Her cheeks burned with the realization that it was true, obvious even, despite attempts to convince herself otherwise. "Of course I would have. We're friends," she said instead.

"Right. I…I guess I haven't had a friend in a long time. Thank you," he replied. "I would do the same for you were our situations reversed."

"Thank you, Anders." Astrid bit her lip and gestured ahead to the bit of dim light in the distance: the center of Darktown. The mage looked as if he wanted to say something more, but shut his mouth with an audible click as Isabela, Fenris and the templars had caught up to them.

"I better take Keran back to the templar quarters at the Gallows," Cullen said as he approached. Surprisingly, he put a gauntleted hand on her shoulder. "Thank you for your help. You're…a formidable woman."

"Thank you, Cullen. You're a good man," Astrid replied with a warm smile.

The man's face flushed pink with embarrassment. "Well, I should be going back to the Gallows now. I'll need to brief the Knight Commander on what's happened here and Keran should not be alone."

"Of course," the girl agreed.

Cullen hesitated, looking down at his silver boots for a moment. "I am sure the Knight Commander would pay you for your services. I didn't bring any gold with me, but if we could meet again at that bar—The Hanged Man—I would gladly recompense you."

_That_ caught her off guard. There were easier ways of getting money than meeting at a bar. The Commander could send a messenger if she really wanted to. "Isn't that a bit out of the way? I could meet you at the Gallows."

"But then I couldn't buy you a drink," Cullen replied quietly, a smile on his lips.

Isabella didn't even pretend she wasn't listening, letting out a loud laugh. Astrid refused to look at her companions as her face became rosy and her jaw fell open. The archer struggled with how to respond.

"If you don't want to, I can send a messenger. I just thought—"

"No, no! I'd love to, Cullen," Astrid insisted in a rush. Part of her wondered what she was getting herself into, but she ignored it. After weeks of uncertainties—she refused to look at Anders—it felt good to be wanted. "Can we meet the day after next?"

The Templar's smile broadened. "Of course. Is around dusk a good time?"

"Yes. That's fine with me. I-I'll see you then."

And so the two parted with the templars going one way, and Astrid's companions facing her with mixed expressions.

"Does this mean we don't need to help mages anymore?" Fenris asked dryly.

"Hawke is going to be too busy with that _man_ to help anyone," Isabela declared proudly. "If you didn't meet him for a drink I was going to decide you were crazy and stop following you around everywhere!"

Astrid laughed weakly, finally daring to look over at Anders. The mage was staring, brown eyes burning right through her. She looked away quickly, struggling to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling that settled in her stomach. But of course he wasn't going to make it any easier.

"Did you forget that he's the Knight Captain of the bloody Templar Order?" he asked incredulously.

"Well—"

"Do you realize that he already knows you associate with mages?"

"I—"

"Do you know what will happen to your family if he discovers what Bethany is? Or what he'll do to _you _when he realizes you've been harboring them? The templars will only become harsher after discovering you. Honestly, Hawke. What are you _thinking_?"

It seemed that their easy banter in the tunnels was forgotten in the blink of an eye. She was no longer his friend Astrid, but Hawke—another obstacle in his search for equality for mages, one more threat to his cause.

"That's not going to happen!" she exclaimed. "I'm just getting a drink with him. He's not going to discover Bethany or your clinic! I need to get paid, and—"

He let out a huff of breath. "Is it really about you getting your payment? I've seen you do greater favors for peasants and turn away less coin than he's offering."

"It's none of your business who I see when we're not doing missions to get to the Deep Roads," she shot back, hands flung out angrily. "You've made it _abundantly _clear that you don't want to have a life outside of your cause, but I do, Anders!"

The mage's eyes flashed lightning blue and his fists clenched at his sides. Isabela gave the girl a concerned look but Astrid stood her ground until he squeezed his eyes shut and opened them once more to reveal his usual amber brown's. "Any chance of me having a life with someone has long been over. I can't rest until every mage in Thedas is safe! You don't know what we've been through."

Astrid felt as if she'd been slapped. "Did you miss the part where I spent my _whole life_ on the run to protect my sister and father? Is this really about the plight of mages or is this about your own feelings?"

Fenris and Isabela looked on with raised eyebrows.

Anders stared down at his dirty boots before meeting her eyes again. It felt like an eternity before he replied. "I feel hatred for the templars for how they've enslaved us and barely permitted us to even live. Those are my only feelings."

Astrid sighed and shook her head. "Right. Because every templar is sadistic psychopath, just like every mage is a maleficar just waiting to use their blood magic on some poor soul. I suppose I'm an idiot for considering someone who might _actually_ want to be with me."

"Astrid—"

But the young woman began walking away, head held high, but eyes filling up quickly with liquid. Fenris and Isabela were behind her but she didn't want to talk. She didn't to hear Isabela's suggestions on what to do with Cullen, or to hear Fenris complain about mages again. She didn't want to fight anyone or yell or get a drink at the bar like she sometimes did on bad days. Astrid just wanted to crawl in bed and stay there for a while.

However, when she got inside Gamlen's house and sunk weakly against the door, ready to collapse in her and Bethany's room from the weight of her broken spirit, not everyone was asleep already.

"Darling! Are you hurt?"

Leandra got up from her seat by the small fire and placed a warm hand on the girl's cool forehead as she looked her over with her sharp yet utterly maternal grey eyes. Astrid simply shook her head. "I'm alright."

The girl's mother backed away once more and assessed her with a knowing look. "Is this about a boy?"

Astrid scowled. "It could be about bandits, or money, or Gamlen, you know. Not everything's about a boy, mother."

"Oh, but this time it is." Leandra smiled.

"He's really more of a man. He's older than me, but no more than a few years," Astrid replied reluctantly.

"Now, what did he do?"

Tears welled in her eyes until her vision swam. One eventually escaped and slid pitifully down her cheek as she choked back a small sob. Astrid felt about seven years old again. _He doesn't like me, mum!_ _And he's possessed by a spirit who hates me!_

"It's complicated," she sniffled.

Leandra pulled the girl into a warm hug. She smelled like fresh bread and fire, nothing like the crisp grassy scent of Lothering, but she smelled like home. "You know, I was just thinking about your father and how hard things were for us at first. It felt like the Maker Himself didn't want us to be together at some points," Leandra admitted with a laugh. "But it worked out in the end. And we even got you, and Bethany, and…and Carver."

"Oh, Mother." Astrid rested her head on her mother's shoulder.

Leandra let her go and gave her a smile. "I won't ask for the details about him, I know you're private. Maybe it's even for the best, for now. But have faith, dear. He'll come around."

"I don't know if he will," she said sadly.

"If he's a good man he will. But it's up to you whether to move on or not," Leandra said. "No one should have to wait forever."

"Thank you, mother. And I'm sorry…about Carver. If I could have—"

Leandra waved a thin hand. "I know. But nothing can change what's happened. But anyway, it's late. You should get some rest."

Astrid placed her bow in the corner. "I think I'll go to the Hanged Man and plan what I'll be doing next, actually. I don't think I'm ready to go to bed yet."

"Alright, just be careful," her mother advised.

"I try to be," Astrid replied with a small smile. "Sweet dreams, mother."

* * *

Even heroes need their mom's sometimes! Don't be discouraged about Anders and Hawke. Give it time! Also, I realize Fenris says very little and just trolls them for the most part, but the next chapter will have more of him. Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

I'm keeping up with my promises and publishing within a week! This is my attempt to move along the story and add in my own stuff. Next time will be Hawke's date with Cullen! Not sure what kind of audience this has since Anders and Cullen are appealing for totally different reasons (except that they had the same voice actor before DA2), but hopefully some people are pleased! Thanks for all the comments/follows/favs!

* * *

Hawke

If anyone looked surprised to see Astrid at their doorstep in the early morning, tired but eager looking, no one showed it. She had hung low for a day, speaking to Varric in his room about Deep Roads business and spending time with her mother and Bethany; but only one day after her embarrassing and public confrontation with Anders (which she had decided to officially block from memory), she was ready to move on and do something she'd been meaning to get done a while ago.

"Why are we going up a mountain again, Hawke?" Varric asked as they trudged through the grassy trail off the main road to the coast. "I'm going to ruin my boots."

"Oh please, you sound like Isabela. Do none of you have outdoorsy gear?" Astrid demanded. "I need to give something to the Dalish Keeper. I owe someone a favor."

"If you paid as much for your clothes as I did, you'd be bitching about it to," Varric retorted. "But ahhh, I know this story. The Witch of the Wilds? You know, if your handwriting weren't so atrocious you could have riches by now from all your stories."

"Yeah, then maybe I could afford your clothes. Luckily I have you around to do all the work for me," she said with a wink.

The dwarf laughed. "If you think _writing_ is the work, you're crazier than I thought. Yeah, you stick to the slaying, I'll stick to the storytelling."

"What's this about a Witch of the Wilds?" Fenris asked. He had been silent for most of the trek to Sundermount, except to suggest paths as Astrid looked over the map.

"Oh, I have a feeling you wouldn't like her," Bethany remarked snarkily beside Astrid, promoting chuckle from Varric.

Fenris rolled his eyes before giving her a sharp look from under his silvery white hair. "What would give you that idea?"

Astrid snorted. "She's something of a legend. According to the tales she's hundreds, maybe thousands of years old."

Now it was Fenris' turn to snort. "Impossible."

Astrid met his eyes. "No. She's the most powerful mage I've ever seen. Sometimes I wonder if she was even real."

"Hmm. You're starting to sound like him now," Fenris replied, gesturing to Varric.

"She wishes, Elf."

Astrid shook her head. "Anyway, let's focus on climbing this mountain. I want to be back in Lowtown by dusk."

"Yeah, don't wanna let Prince Charming down," Varric said.

Astrid nearly stopped in her tracks at Bethany's stunned "_Who?_"

The archer shot Varric a dirty look. She hadn't told Bethany about Cullen asking her for a drink. She'd only mentioned that she did the templars a small favor and needed to collect money from one of them later. If Bethany knew that the templar in question had an interest in her, the girl would die of panic. Not only did she not want to scare her sister, but Astrid felt guilty for agreeing to get a drink with the man. Templars had haunted Bethany's dreams for years, and the thought of losing her to them had haunted Astrid. How could she explain to Bethany that she was getting a drink with someone from her nightmares? Even Cullen, with his blushing cheeks and polite speech could prove to be a deadly threat.

_What am I doing? _Astrid thought.

She'd thought maybe with Cullen she wouldn't be left alone on Gamlen's front steps, cold and rejected. Cullen made it clear he wanted her. Unlike _someone _she was refusing to think about. However, if he discovered Bethany was a mage, they would all be dead. And it would be all her fault.

Her temporary solution? Keep Bethany as far away from Cullen as possible.

"No one," Astrid answered quickly. "Just one of the templars is hideously ugly—he's got a big boil on his face and a huge bald spot, you know, the works. And Varric calls him Prince Charming to be funny. He's the one I'm getting the money from."

"Huh," Bethany said. "That's funny. Sort of mean though, don't you think?"

Fenris raised a thin brow at Astrid. "Yes, that is a bit mean. _Hard to believe_ you two could be so cruel."

Varric, quick minded as ever, adjusted Bianca on his back and shook his head. "Well that guy was so rude, I didn't think twice about it. Typical templar. Am I right, Sunshine?"

"You don't have to say that twice," Bethany agreed with a laugh. "But Astrid, please be careful. I would hate to see you hurt."

_Ugh. _Astrid felt like she could throw up, she was so guilty. "'Course I will be, Beth. Come on, let's go."

Varric shook his head at her behind the younger Hawke's back as they walked. Astrid exhaled deeply and gave him a meaningful glance. _I don't even want to talk about it._

* * *

"You seem…awfully nervous, Merrill," Astrid said as the ragtag group hiked up one of the foggy Dalish paths up yet another mountain.

If Astrid had known she'd have to hike up a whole mountain just to meet with some elves who called her a "shem," (which she was pretty sure was racist) and made her climb _another _mountain, she might have thrown Flemeth's stupid trinket into the sea on the boat over to Kirkwall. At least this little elven girl, Keeper Marethari's "First" seemed kind, if a bit strange.

"I've never met a human before," she admitted, her huge glossy green eyes glancing quickly over at Astrid. She flipped a stray piece of black hair out of her pale face and continued. "Dalish mothers frighten their children with stories about you, you know?"

Astrid stared at her quizzically, not sure of what to say.

"Not you personally of course!" the elf corrected quickly. "I'm sure they don't have any tales about you. Or not scary ones at least."

Astrid was about to reply, but Merrill shook her head and stopped walking. "Not that you're not notable enough to have a story…I'll just shut up now."

"Well, I'm glad you've finally got to meet some humans, Merrill. We're not all that bad," Astrid said.

"Except for how they stole the elves' land and occasionally enslave them." Fenris contributed.

Merrill's eyes widened to impossible sizes, as if just realizing that fact just now.

"Well I have done none of those things," Astrid said with a glare at Fenris. "Don't worry, Merrill. The human city isn't all that bad."

"Except for the criminals," Varric said.

"And the templars," Bethany added.

"And the mages." Fenris scowled at the younger Hawke sister.

"Um, oh, alright," Merrill said.

Astrid rubbed a hand across her forehead. "Ah. Okay, let's get walking."

They barely walked a few yards when skeletal figures equipped with weapons rose up from the cakey dirt beneath them. It wasn't difficult work—Astrid's only fear was protecting Merrill; however the young elf surprised all of them by using what Astrid had thought was a walking stick at her back to cast swirling black hexes. One by one skeletons were stunned or writhing in agony, just waiting for someone to slice a head off or pin them against the ground with an arrow. The only one who wasn't pleased at the sight was Fenris for, well, obvious reasons.

The biggest surprise however, was about an hour later when the sweaty, muddy, and bloodstained group reached the top of the mountain after going through a cave full of huge spiders, and killing (or re-killing?) dozens of skeletons and demons.

"Andraste's knickerweasels," Astrid panted, forgetting it was one of Anders' silly phrases she was fond of. She winced subtly. _Not thinking about him! _"How do your people live here with all these monsters?"

Merrill shrugged. "They mostly leave us alone."

Bethany, whose hair was a tangled mess from when a skeleton managed to grab onto her, looked like she was going to be sick. "Mostly?"

But Merrill was staring at the glowing blue barrier up ahead that was blocking their way.

"How are we gonna get through that, Daisy?" Varric asked. He already had a nickname for her.

"I can open the way forward," Merrill said grimly. "One moment." The small woman approached the barrier with a determined glint in her eyes. She stopped, braced herself, and pulled a knife from her waistband. Astrid watched curiously. _Wha—_

Merrill yelped as she sliced into her own pale hand. Blood dripped from her wound and seemed to permeate in the air around her. The elf flung her hands forward and magic flew into the barrier, collapsing it before them.

"Blood magic? Foolish, very foolish," Fenris said, shaking his head. He didn't look surprised in the least.

Astrid on the other hand was shocked. "Merrill! Do you know what you just did?" she demanded stupidly. _Duh, of course she knows. Why else would she do it?_

"Yes, it was blood magic. But I know what I'm doing. The spirit helped us, didn't it?"

Astrid exchanged a skeptical look with her younger sister. Their father Malcolm had warned them vehemently against those who used blood magic. Bethany was to never use it, and Astrid and Carver were to protect the family from anyone who did use it. _Blood mages cannot be trusted, _the Hawke patriarch had said. _Not because they are inherently evil, but because the deals that come with it are quite sinister._

"You summoned a demon, not a spirit," Astrid said sternly. She liked Merrill, but she could not stand by and treat this lightly. For all of their sakes.

"Demons are just Spirits, like Honor or Joy," Merrill defended. For the first time she sounded defensive, angry even. "It's not their fault they are what they are!"

Hawke fought the temptation to snort. She knew all about Spirits. They were really pretty annoying sometimes.

"Ignore the tiger," Fenris said with the most colossal eye roll Astrid had ever seen. "Not it's fault that it's going to eat you. Sound advice." For once, she realized in amazement, she agreed with him.

Bethany was also upset. "Surely there was a safer way."

Merrill ignored them and began walking ahead. "Be careful ahead, restless things prowl the heights."

Varric shook his head. "I don't like the look of this, Hawke. This girl's cute, but she seems like a few priests short of a chantry."

Astrid muttered an agreement but approached the area anyway. They'd come this far, what else was she supposed to do? She joked about selling the witch's amulet to a merchant or throwing it into the sea, but in reality she wouldn't dare. Bethany dreamt of heartless warriors, flaming swords emblazed on their armor, slamming down their front door to drag her to a dark abyss. But lately in Astrid's sleep she saw predatory yellow eyes regarding her from the shadows and heard a whisper tickle her ear that make the skin on the back of her neck tingle. _Your struggles have only just begun._

It was high time she paid her debt to Flemeth.

As she walked across the chilly burial ground, boots sinking into thick mud with each step toward the stone platform at the edge of the area, she heard a sound. It was the ground beside her shaking, she realized as a boney blackened hand shot from the earth to grab her leg.

"Shit!" she cursed, swinging her leg around trying to shake the creature. In the chaos, her dagger fell from her belt onto the ground. Meanwhile the arcane horror was dragging itself up from the ground by its other arm and digging into her leg with its claws. She struggled to grab her bow from where it hung on her back and shakily strung an arrow. "Come on, come on, come on!"

The arrow pierced through the thing's skull, making it fall limply to the ground. Freedom! The rest of the creatures sprouting from the ground were child's play at this point, although Astrid's leg was stinging in pain. When the last of the monsters burned to a crisp from a well done flame spell by Bethany, the woman took the time to sit on a headstone shaped rock and examine the wounded area. Ugly brown and purple welts covered her left calf. She'd need to see a healer for that later. _But, _Astrid wondered, _who?_ She didn't actually know any other healers besides well, you know… She cursed quietly to herself. _Whatever_. She'd figure that out later. Now it was time for the ritual.

* * *

Anders

Anders stood at the foot of the russet stone steps leading up to Astrid's home in Lowtown. He pulled his coat closer to him as a crisp wind blew past his shoulders. For the twelfth time he wondered what he was doing there.

_I am not going to apologize_, he thought as he paced. _I will _not _apologize_. But as he glanced down at the trio of violet flowers in his hand, the statement seemed less and less true.

_Your gift was given to you by the Maker, yet she is choosing to associate with a man who declared himself above you—above us_, Justice declared. _Forget the woman and focus on your cause._

The Spirit had a point. However, during their argument he had not spoken to her as a mage defending his cause, but as a lover scorned—yet he wasn't even her lover! He was all rage and jealousy at the thought of that templar taking her out. The templar would buy her a drink, hear her stories, get to listen to her laugh and smile; The templar might even kiss her at her doorstep at the end of the night, or worse, do things he'd only dreamed of doing with Astrid. The thought of that made his skin itch and his stomach turn.

Anders regretted his behavior. He would never support her seeing a templar, not under any circumstance, but he could have been honest about his feelings for her. The look on her face—so hurt yet proud as she tried to contain tears, had ripped at his heart.

_She's a nuisance, _Justice insisted stubbornly.

_I'm letting her move on. I just want our relationship to be civil._

He really couldn't blame her for moving on. He was possessed by a Spirit, penniless, and had made it clear that they couldn't be together. The templar might even be the saner choice, he realized with a shake of his head. The best thing to do was to make things right between them and stop all the flirting, all the teasing, and stay out of her personal affairs.

_If friendship is all you desire, why have you brought flowers? _demanded Justice. _You spent your last coins on them._

Anders sighed. He didn't even know anymore. _Don't people do that platonically? I don't know, because I'm an idiot?_

The mage finally approached the door and gave it a knock. There was some movement inside and a tan man with dark, graying hair opened the door very slightly, looking out with sharp eyes. "Yes? What do you want?" he asked impatiently. If this wasn't Astrid's uncle, he would march straight up to the Knight Captain and light her hair on fire.

"I'm here to see Astrid. Is she around?"

"No," he snapped.

"Do you know where she is? The Hanged Man maybe?"

"No. She left early this morning. How should I know where those brats go?"

"Ah, I see. I'm assuming your nieces received their charm from elsewhere in the family then," the mage muttered.

"What?"

"Gamlen, is there someone at the door?" a voice cut in. "I've been expecting a messenger from the Viscount about the estate, you know."

The door opened more widely, allowing a thin, dark-haired woman to peer out at him. Though at a glance she looked more like Bethany, the soft slope of her nose and the inquisitive arch in her brows were all Astrid. She was past her prime and her skin appeared wan from years of stress, her smile was warm and it was obvious she was once very beautiful.

Below them, the girls' mabari warhound sprang from the house, tail wagging and tongue hanging from its mouth. It immediately began sniffing Anders' robes and licking his hand, much to his disgust.

"Oh! Hello, I see you've met Precious. Who might you be?" Astrid's mother asked.

He pulled his hands from the mangy dog and wiped them on his robes. "Hello madam, I'm Anders, a friend of your daughter."

"Anders?" her thin brows creased over her eyes. "I thought you were…older. So you're a friend of Bethany?"

The mage was confused, to say the least. "I suppose I am, but Astrid and I are closer. I came here to see her actually, and er, give her these." He shoved the flowers forward for her to see.

Gamlen snorted. "Good luck with that one," he grumbled and disappeared into the house.

The woman on the other hand, couldn't hide her excitement. "Oh! Well, here come in from the cold. Let me put those in water."

Anders reluctantly followed her into the small, but warm house, staring at the few items such as the writing desk and the small kitchen table. He felt strange. He'd never been in her house before, and it felt wrong to finally be inside without Astrid even there.

"Here, let me take these," the woman said. "I'm Leandra, by the way, the girls' mother." Leandra set to filling a small vase with water and gestured to a spot at the table for him to sit. Gamlen was sitting by the fire, glaring daggers at the dog as it followed them inside. "Why the flowers, Anders?" Leandra asked.

_Oh great._ He hadn't ran laps since the Wardens, but he thought he could probably high tail it out of the house relatively unscathed. "I feel that I owe Astrid an apology. We got into an argument, and I didn't handle it very well."

Surprisingly she gave a knowing smile. "Astrid's always been stubborn, just like her father. She'll come around when she sees fit. Those will certainly help, they're lovely."

Anders liked this woman and the way she smiled at him without judgment of his shoddy old feathered coat or the sagging purple flowers on the table. He could see equal parts Astrid and Bethany on her, even from this small interaction. As for Gamlen, well, he could see what looked like a mustard stain on his shirt. The man only wished he could have met Leandra sooner, maybe at one of the dinners Astrid had invited him to. He'd only known of short trysts with women, not of meeting the folks. Almost everyone he'd been with had been in the same situation as him at the Tower—they no longer had any family to speak of.

"It's lovely to meet you finally. I've heard so much about your family from Astrid and Bethany," Anders said. "I—I envy your bond."

"Us?" Gamlen asked with a loud cough as he choked on whatever he was drinking from the flask he'd pulled from his pocket. "You must be touched in the head!"

Leandra shot him an icy glare. "We have a bond, Gamlen. We…we play cards sometimes."

He snorted. "Yes, we're thick as thieves."

The woman rolled her eyes. "The bond between mother and child is much stronger of course. I couldn't imagine life without Bethany and Astrid. After my husband and Carver…it was unbearable."

"Carver?" Anders felt slightly dirty even asking about the name. He had heard the sisters say the it, but he had never asked the significance. It seemed…too personal. While he and Astrid shared much, there was still a sort of agreed upon distance between them. Briefly he wondered whether he should take back the question.

"You don't know about Carver?" Leandra asked, her eyebrows curving over her eyes.

"Oh boy," Gamlen said. "I'll start the kettle."

"Carver was Bethany's twin. He was with us when we left Lothering during the Blight," she explained. "He was a brave boy. We were travelling when a horde of darkspawn caught up to us, and…" Leandra paused for a moment, seemed to gather herself, and continued, "Carver charged ahead at an ogre, trying to protect us. He—he…"

Anders reached out and touched her hand, sending small waves of healing magic. She wasn't hurt, but it would calm her. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"It happened over a year ago. We just all seem to blame ourselves for it. I'm surprised Astrid never mentioned it."

"There's not much time for talk with what we do, I suppose," Anders offered. Leandra's mouth dropped and her brows rose skyward. Anders quickly added, "Fighting criminals, I mean."

Leandra nodded as she wiped her eyes. "Well, I'm glad she has such a kind young man in her life. Thank you for stopping by."

Leandra walked the mage to the door and made him agree to visit again soon. She also promised him that Astrid would get her flowers. Gamlen snarled something like "And stay out."

Anders walked down the stone steps feeling a bit strange and guilty, as if he'd just read her diary. The visit had given him a lot to think about. He briefly wondered what she was doing today and hoped she was happy as he began the walk to Dark Town. His thoughts wandered dangerously close to her upcoming date before he stopped them in his tracks. _Hopefully you'll see her soon_, he thought instead, despite the grumbles of the Spirit within.

* * *

Also, to avoid any confusion: in an earlier chapter Hawke told Leandra that Anders was an old geezer mage helping Beth with her magic, so that's why Anders was like "lol whut?" when Leandra says she thought he was older. And about the mustard stain on Gamlen's shirt...no f*cking idea if mustard exists in Thedas. But in this story it does. So lovers of mustard...you're welcome ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Okay, so this is sooo late. I'm sorry. I got caught up with midterms, spring break, and such. Also, I just started Mass Effect (I know, I'm way tardy to the party on that one), and got super caught up in that addiction, but that's a whole other story. Haha. So here it is, hope you enjoy. I'm also going to change the rating to mature. Not completely sure yet how I'll incorporate sex scenes into it yet, but I wanna be safe. And anyway there's going to be a lot of violence and bad language down in the Deep Roads anyway, so I suppose it works. But whatevs, here ya go!

* * *

Hawke

_You can do this_, Astrid thought as she paced awkwardly outside the Hanged Man. Her leg was hurting from when one of the skeleton creatures at Sundermount had grabbed her, but she was too wrapped up in nervousness to pay much attention to it.

_It's only a date.._. With the incredibly handsome Knight Captain of the Templar Order, who could easily throw her in the Gallows if he found out almost anything about her history. _Well_, she amended, _maybe not easily. I could take him._

_ Ugh. _Thinking about whether or not you could best your date in a fight was not normal behavior. Astrid let out a final indecisive sigh and limped into the tavern. Despite the vague sickness in her stomach, a nervous smile stretched across her lips when she spotted the burly man sitting by the bar. He looked over at her and returned the gesture, his cheeks coloring slightly.

"Hawke," Cullen said as she approached. "You look…"

Suddenly self conscious, Astrid groaned. "Don't finish that sentence."

She was wearing muddy armor with her flaxen hair in utter disarray despite numerous attempts to flatten it and clean up. The girl had planned on running home to change into plainclothes and bathe, but with the addition of Merrill to her small party after the trip to Sundermount, she'd had to go make sure she was situated in the Alienage instead. Not only that, but because of an idiotic dwarf they'd met going down the mountain, she'd got stuck fighting Tal-Vashoth rebels with a bum leg. _And _she had to visit the Qunari compound by the docks the next day to inform the Arishok. _Can't wait._

"I think you look lovely. It's just…you've got a bit of uh…" he gestured to his cheek, "blood."

Astrid froze and touched a dried crusty spot on her cheek. Her face blanched as she blotted the spot out with a handkerchief. Varric had sworn she looked fine before heading off from their earlier adventure to meet with the Merchant's Guild. _I'll kill him,_ she thought savagely.

"It's just from a demon," Astrid assured him. "I swear you don't need to arrest me."

Thankfully, the templar laughed, making him look years younger. He didn't seem much older than her, but now in a bar dressed simply in a grey shirt and pants, similar to what he wore the other night when they had ventured to the Blooming Rose, he looked so much less intimidating. He was so much more real outside of his armor; not a position or a title, but a person.

"I'll take your word for it this time," he said in a mock authoritative voice. "But may I ask you how you ended up slaying demons today?"

"Oh, it's a long story," she said glibly, not sure if she wanted to share that much quite so quickly.

But Cullen smiled and the tension seemed to float away. There was a sort of gentleness to him that made the man the type of person that was easy to confide in. "I've got time," he offered, with a gesture to Corff to bring them two ales.

She bit her lip. "Tempting, but I'm not sure I want to earn your disapproval quite so fast..."

Disappointment crossed his face for a moment before being replaced with a lighthearted smile. "I can't picture me disapproving a woman like you, but I understand your hesitance. With my being part of the templars, and well…ah, I don't actually know what you do for work?"

"That's a good question," she observed with a small laugh. _What do I do exactly?_ "I work, well, a variety of jobs I suppose. People just seem to find me and ask me for help, and sometimes they pay me. But I've been saving my coin for an expedition to the Deep Roads."

"The Deep Roads?" Astrid could not tell if he was impressed or horrified. "What do you hope to achieve?"

Astrid couldn't fight the stupid grin that spread across her face. It sounded so ridiculous and impossible. In fact it very well could be, but she could worry about that later. "We're looking for treasure."

Cullen's eyebrows shot up. "I don't know what to make of you: templar rescuer, demon slayer, and treasure hunter extraordinaire."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," she said with the flash of a smile.

Cullen's face blushed pink. "I'm glad that you agreed to meet me here tonight. A lot of women have the wrong impression of templars—that we're too encompassed in our duty to want a social life."

"A lot of women, huh?" she cocked an eyebrow.

His cheeks turned impossibly redder. "No, you're, ah, the first woman I've asked out since I've been stationed here, actually."

Astrid's heart skipped a beat. So this was definitely a date, any question about that was gone. She chewed on her lip. He was the first man she'd been out with here too, but to say he was the first she had feelings for would be a lie. Astrid took a long drink from her ale and ignored the part of her brain that was lingering towards thoughts of Anders. _Don't even,_ she scolded. _He doesn't want you._

"How did such a nice guy like you become a templar?" she asked instead, resting her cheek in one hand as she looked at him.

Luckily Cullen laughed. "Doing holy work in a tower in the middle of Lake Calenhad was not my first choice as a boy, believe it or not. I actually wanted to be a soldier."

"A soldier? Ah, I don't mean to pry, but the pay must be significantly less than that of a templar," Astrid noted after a sip of her drink.

"Oh yes," he chuckled. "But my father was a soldier, as was his father before him. They both passed before I was born, but I suppose that only made me want to be one more. Only, when I turned seventeen I was rejected by the recruiters who came into town. They laughed in my face, said I moved like I had two left feet and couldn't hold a sword if my life depended on it."

Astrid was shocked. Cullen, the broad figure before her who she'd seen slice a demon in two had been rejected from _fighting_?

"If it was during the Blight I'm sure they would have accepted me. I heard talk that they brought boys barely into their teens to the battles then. The poor lads never stood a chance…the bastards." Cullen shook his head. "The templars happened to be passing through about a fortnight later, just after a truly tragic hunt for a blood mage, and Knight Commander Greagoir saw something in me. I kissed my mother goodbye and decided to join them. I began training the next day."

"What happened to your mother?" Astrid asked. "Did she leave during the Blight?"

"No. She died only a year after I joined the Order. Bandits," he explained.

"Did you avenge her?" Astrid asked before she fully realized the levity of her question. She could have slapped herself. _Normal people don't murder others!_

Luckily Cullen didn't seem disturbed "I thought about it. Many times I wanted to track them down and get them back for what they'd done. I thought it was the only righteous or just thing to do, but Greagoir and Irving, the First Enchanter, convinced me otherwise."

That was deep. She knew what it was like to lose someone, to want to wreak havoc on the world as if it could bring them back. When her father died she wanted to march right up to the Chantry in Lothering and shout at the templars. Astrid needed to blame something and they were right there. It was their fault he died! If he hadn't been so stressed or had to travel so much he might not have gotten sick.

Of course, in the end she knew it wouldn't help anything. Those men didn't know her father, and they weren't responsible for his death, no one was. But grief…well, she still felt awful inside when she thought about Carver, that's just how bad it is. She wanted to ask Cullen more about his mother, but felt like she would be intruding. The man was staring down at the table as if it contained some deep prophetic writings, more than a little subconscious about the revelation about his past.

"The First Enchanter? I didn't realize that templars might look toward mages for advice," Astrid said._ Smooth_, she thought, _very subtle_.

Cullen considered it for a moment. "We did in Fereldan, at least occasionally. In Kirkwall…things are done differently. Knight Commander Meredith is our foremost authority."

"She seems to have a firm grip on the Gallows from what I hear," Astrid said, watching his reaction.

He frowned slightly. "As Knight Commander she deserves certain rights. Perhaps if Greagoir had the same policy in Kinloch Hold, some tragedies could have been prevented."

Astrid chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering how many questions she could ask him before he shut her down. She was so used to just demanding answers from criminals now, she wasn't sure exactly how to go about learning things tactfully. "Tragedies?"

The templar gave her a sad smile. "It's a long story."

_Fair enough._ He'd revealed a lot about himself, a lot more than she was willing to say. "I understand." Without thinking, the girl reached over and gently smoothed her cool hand over his. "Well, it's a shame you never became a soldier, Cullen—you would have been a damn good one, I'm sure. And I'm sorry about your mother."

"Thank you, Hawke, but I have no regrets. I've experienced many things in my life, and I've come to believe that everything happens for one reason or another."

It was a nice sentiment, but she wasn't sure she agreed. There was no reason for her father to get sick, for Carver to charge against that ogre, or for poor Bethany to live like a criminal for simply existing. But to think that all of their suffering somehow served a purpose, that they would all be okay in the end, was a comforting thought. She withdrew her hand from his. "You're an interesting man, Cullen. I've enjoyed talking to you."

"_Interesting_?" he asked, titling his head with a small smile. "Is that a kind way to say you think I'm actually boring and utterly daft?"

Astrid laughed. "If I thought you were boring or daft I would have never agreed to meet you tonight. But," she continued, with a smirk, "we could play a few rounds of Wicked Grace to make sure."

"Well I must warn you, Hawke," he said, leaning closely to her. "I am excellent at games of wit and skill."

Astrid could feel his warm breath on her ear; smell the earthiness of his clothes as he spoke. It was strangely captivating. Cullen was a very safe man, but the situation was still dangerous. She felt a surge of adrenaline at his words. Luckily she kept her composure cool, aside from a slight blush on her own cheeks for a change. "Good. Don't go easy on me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied with a grin.

* * *

Five card games and four ales later, Hawke let out a yawn. She didn't even want to think about waking up early tomorrow to meet with the Arishok, but unfortunately she had to. With the Deep Roads trip just around the corner she had to make sure all her affairs were in order, and though it wasn't her responsibility she felt she had to make sure Kirkwall was safe. After all, Bethany would probably be staying behind.

"As much as I would love to continue kicking your ass, I think it's time I go, Cullen."

"You just want to quit while you're ahead," he remarked, but his eyes were joyful. "Though I suppose it is a bit late."

They stood up in unison, with Astrid slipping the cards into her pack and Cullen dropping a few coins on the table to pay for their drinks. "Oh, let me pay. I've got my coin purse!" For once, she actually could afford to pay for both of their drinks. With the few things she'd agreed to do before departing for the Deep Roads, she would have more than enough to join the expedition.

"No, no," Cullen insisted. "I asked _you_ to meet me tonight. And besides, I owe you." He handed her a small bag heavy with coin, her payment for saving Keren.

"I—I don't even need this, Cullen," she said as they strode through the thinning crowd of the bar. "I just wanted him to be reunited with his sister. He was, right? How did it all work out with the templars?"

Cullen glanced down at his feet as they reached the exit and departed into the cool night air. "He, ah, he's with his sister, yes. Unfortunately, the Order did not think it suitable for him to return right away. He can serve as a recruit, but must wait ten years before he can be approved for full knighthood."

"Ten years?" Astrid exclaimed. "But he's fine! Whose idiotic idea was that?"

"Er…mine." Cullen shoved his hands in his pockets. "I need to look out for the other templars, and the mages. There can be no chance of possession or the entire Gallows could fall."

Part of her was tempted to think that might not be a bad thing, but rationally it would be horrible. She could still remember watching her father teach Bethany about magic like it was yesterday. _Demons are never the answer, darling._ Still, Keren wasn't possessed.

"You saw Anders test him though! There's no demon inside of him!"

"I don't wish to offend you, but I remember your mage from Circle Tower, Hawke, and I'm afraid I cannot trust him. I respect you and your service to the Order enough not to report him to the Knight Commander, but I cannot trust the word of a rebel apostate," he said.

Right. She remembered their little exchange after the ordeal with Tarohne, but at the time she'd only cared about breaking it up. Now she was curious-Cullen and Anders knew each other. Sort of.

Though she wasn't on good terms with the mage for the moment, the statement still sent a surge of anger through her. Astrid trusted Anders more than anyone besides Bethany or maybe Varric. He wouldn't lie about an innocent man being possessed by a demon to take down the circle, if Cullen had been stationed at Kinloch Hold while Anders was there, he should know that. The man was noble, _good_, even if he didn't believe it himself. She opened her mouth to protest the claim but shut it at the apologetic look on the templar's face.

Cullen was just trying to do his job. He had people to take care of, just like her, and it comforted her to know that he included the mages in that category as well. Finally she sighed and folded her arms over her chest. "What a peculiar situation this is."

"Because I'm a templar, and you ally yourself with mages?" Cullen asked with a small chuckle. "Yes, it's a tad complicated." His face quickly turned downcast however, and he met her gaze with a questioning look. "Does this mean you think this should be our one and only date?"

Astrid stared at him under the pool of moonlight next to the Hanged Man. Cullen was funny, intelligent, and incredibly kind (after she realized the recruit he was beating when they first met was a demon, of course), but how much could she really share with him? Even after a few ales, she still had her guard up, ready to change the subject should family or magic arise in the conversation. He definitely had a dark past with mages, but was unwilling to talk about it yet. However, he wasn't like the other templars she'd met. Not once did she see him act downright cruel to a mage. Under all the armor and strict authority he seemed…soft, different.

"Beliefs are a huge part of us," Astrid started. The man nodded vehemently. "I-I'm not sure if I can look past us not seeing eye to eye on some things, and I have a feeling that might be difficult for you too. But," she continued, "I think you're a good man, and I had fun with you tonight."

"As did I," he said, smiling.

The gesture was contagious. A grin slowly spread across Astrid's face. "What I mean, is that I would feel like shit if I didn't at least give it a chance. I mean, you know, if _you _want to."

That familiar blush crept onto his face and ears. "Yes, of course," he said quickly.

The man offered to walk her home, despite the docks and the Gallows being in the opposite direction. They didn't hold hands, but stood close enough for their shoulders to brush against each other as they walked, Astrid limping slightly from the fighting earlier.

"This one's mine," Astrid said as they arrived at Gamlen's. "Well, my uncle's really."

"Ah, the, er, gentleman at the Blooming Rose?" Cullen asked.

"You're too kind. I was thinking the 'rat' or maybe 'annoying old badger'" she laughed, taking a step toward the stairs. Astrid tried not to wince as her foot hit the ground.

"Are you alright? I thought I saw you limping, but I wasn't sure. You hold yourself too well," Cullen observed.

"It's fine. I'm going to get it looked at tomorrow. This woman Lirene just across town is quite good."

The templar raised an eyebrow. "Not the mage? He healed me quite well that day with Wilmod. I probably should have thanked him better," he admitted hesitantly.

"We're not really speaking right now. We got into an argument." The thought of it made her bite down hard on the inside of her cheek.

Cullen seemed to hesitate before speaking. "He didn't look very pleased when I asked you for a drink. Am I…stepping on any toes?"

"What, me and Anders? Never. Nothing will ever happen with us." Astrid's stomach twisted and churned. Thinking it and saying it aloud were two totally different experiences. She felt like she was saying something dirty…which was weird, because that really wasn't ever a problem for her. Astrid shook it off. "We're just not like that…he's not like that."

"Not like what?" Cullen asked curiously, studying her face.

"Uh, interested in me," Astrid said with a small laugh. She meant to seem light and nonchalant, but the words tumbled out forced and awkward. Astrid fought the urge to cringe.

"If that's true, he's a fool," Cullen murmured.

He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them in the darkness. The templar looked down at her with apprehension, as if to ask _is this okay?_ Hawke bit her lip.

She had a dozen worries on her mind lately: the Deep Roads, her family…Anders. Her mother had advised she wait on him, that he'd come around. _Yeah, fat chance_, she thought. Astrid meant it when she said she and the mage would never be together. What if she wasted all of her time pining over him and didn't see the person right in front of her? Slowly Astrid leaned forward, resting her hands on his shoulders as their lips met.

His lips were light as they brushed against hers, moving with all the gentleness she would have expected from him. However, she hadn't expected the pounding in her chest or the goose bumps that sprang on her skin as his arms circled her waist. Without thinking, her hands slid up his neck so her fingers could entangle themselves in his short curls. Cullen gripped her tighter and deepened the kiss, pulling Astrid closer as she melted into him.

They broke off nearly gasping. Astrid swept her hair out of her eyes and grinned at him. "You're bold for someone so easily embarrassed."

"Yes, well, ah, that's why I should probably get going. I'd hate to redevelop my stutter," he joked, face completely flushed as he smiled. "I hope we can meet again soon?"

"Of course. I do have some time before I need to go to the Deep Roads."

"G-good. I'll see you then." Now it was the templar's turn to cringe. "I uh was mostly joking about the stutter. "Old habits die hard, you know?"

Astrid laughed. "I know, Cullen. We'll be in touch."

Despite the nagging pain in her leg, the girl entered Gamlen's old hovel feeling good. She wasn't sure how everything would pan out with Cullen, but he seemed to be someone worth taking a chance on. With time her family could probably understand. _Well_, Astrid thought as she recalled Bethany setting the barn on fire over a tantrum in her teen years, _maybe._ And if Beth could walk by templars on the street everyday without being accused of having magic, she could certainly go without arising another's suspicions. Besides, now she could take steps to get over her dumb crush on Anders and see him professionally, or as a friend at least.

"Darling, where have you been all day?" Leandra asked from her spot by the fire.

"You don't want to know, mother," Astrid joked. _But really._

Bethany, who was rubbing their mabari's belly with a laugh, looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "Mother says a _charming_ young man came by earlier with flowers for you."

"Yes, they're over by the table," Leandra said. "His name was Anders. Very nice boy."

_Shit._


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, I'm gonna stop making official promises about publishing more often. School has been too crazy with finals and shit, plus I've been in the process of transferring. Also, I've been playing Mass Effect nonstop so it's sort of jarring to go from swooning over Garrus' awkward flirting to trying to convince Anders to stfu about Justice and hook up. (Of course I'm kidding. Mostly.) Thank you to everyone who's still interested in this story despite the long delays. I will _most likely_ be able to post more frequently this summer. Maybe also with another story about Bethany, or maybe one delving into the Mass Effect realm if anyone's remotely interested.

ALSO: Some people commented and messaged about Cullen being a templar making him unable to have a relationship, but Aveline's husband was a templar. I don't know the official "rules" but I'm just going to assume Cullen can marry as well.

Anyway, here it is. WARNING: possibly confusing dream sequences ahead.

* * *

Anders

Anders scribbled a thick line across the words he was jotting and tossed his quill aside. He'd been working on his manifesto since he woke up early that morning, which now felt like an eternity ago, but he'd barely written anything comprehensive. _This is pointless,_ he decided, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. He'd barely eaten the past few days, couldn't remember the last time he slept. He had left the flowers with Astrid's mother yesterday morning, yet she still hadn't seen him. What that meant, he wasn't sure.

Perhaps she just hadn't had time. Maybe she was just at the tavern with Varric and Bethany. Or—his thoughts turned dark—she was just waking up in the Knight Captain's quarters in the Gallows. ..

_Ugh. _Try as he might to convince himself he just wanted to be friends, the thought made him want to hit something. Forcing the thought from his mind, he got up and headed out of his room and into the main area of the clinic to get started on the day's work. Patients would surely be filtering in soon looking for medicine or food.

Anders' stomach flipped at the sight of the woman sitting on one of the cots, a smirk on her pale face and her legs crossed. Anders tried to swallow but his throat was dry. She was wearing casual clothes—a navy tunic and leather trousers tucked into scuffed brown boots. Her blonde hair was for once free of its tight not and hanging in a halo around her shoulders.

"I see you're keeping up with the whole sexy tortured look," Astrid said.

"Uh, I try," he said lamely, scratching the back of his neck. _Dammit, Anders,_ he thought. _What happened to your Fereldan days? _ A few years ago she would have been blushing like mad at his repartee, but somehow he found it hard to speak with her while she was looking up at him like the cat that ate the canary.

"I got your flowers," Astrid said as she got to her feet. "They were beautiful."

"It was no trouble. I just felt terrible—what I said the other day, when you asked me about my feelings and I said the only thing I felt was hate for the templars. It wasn't true. I—"

"Anders." She silenced him with a soft finger on his chapped lips. "I know," she said, moving closer to him. Her fingers drifted from his face and down to his shoulders, and up the back of his neck to tangle themselves in his hair. Anders let his eyes drift close. "I missed you," Astrid murmured.

"What about, ah, Cullen?" he asked, barely daring to say it.

Astrid shifted her body close to his, brushing against his front as she whispered close to his face, her breath tickling his ear, "What about him?"

Anders nearly groaned. He reached out his hands and planted them on her hips, pulling her closer as she smiled. His hands slipped under her tunic to touch her skin, which was surprisingly cool to the touch as he kneaded his thumbs into her. Astrid completely thrust herself against him and wrapped both arms around her neck. "I only want you, Anders."

That was enough for him. In fact, it was more than enough. He would have settled for anything if it meant touching her skin for just a second more. The mage circled his arms around her and smothered her lips with his own, savoring the feel of her in his arms and the cool sweet feel of their lips together. Her hands knotted in his hair, pulling gently as she backed away from the embrace. He followed, arms tracing her smooth back. Astrid briefly broke from the embrace to sit back onto the cot. Her rosy lips curved into a smile as he looked down at her, and she tugged on his robes. "Anders."

He followed her, sitting beside her and capturing her mouth in his yet again, this time nibbling gently on her bottom lip. She made a small noise and crawled onto his lap, straddling his hips. _Maker,_ he thought breathlessly.

His hands cupped her hips yet again, but this time he let a little soothing magic drift from his fingers, an old trick he learned a few years ago. She looked down at him with confusion. "What are you doing?"

It took him a moment to register what she said, but by the time he opened his mouth, red faced and apologetic, the girl was frowning and getting to her feet. "Anders, what are you doing?"

"I—"

Astrid's eyes, normally green, turned a bright cobalt blue as a wind seemed to blow in from out of nowhere, sweeping her hair around her in a tempest. Power crackled around her, eerily illuminating her face. "_ANDERS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" _ she boomed in a deep ethereal voice.

Fear and dread filled the man. He looked around his clinic however and found it uncharacteristically clean, empty. As his eyes traveled about the room, the walls, desk, the ceiling all seemed to dissipate. When he turned back to what he thought had been Astrid, something like fear crossed her face as she faded into the blackness that was closing in. Now it was just Anders on a lone cot in the Fade.

_It felt so real,_ he thought. He couldn't even remember falling asleep.

_You were dreaming. Again, _echoed a familiar powerful voice. _You must concentrate on the mage's plight._

"Can't you give a man some privacy, Justice?" Anders asked, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"We're one and the same, Anders—you know this. Lustful thinking is not beneficial to our cause, and we should not busy ourselves with it. I…I could not rightfully think such things."

"Well you took your sweet time before you interrupted," Anders grumbled. Yet the Spirit was right. It was unfair of him to think…intimately of Astrid with Justice as a voyeur, and he had no business doing it, even in the Fade. She was not his, nor could she ever be if he ever wanted freedom for mages. No, that would always have to come first, at least as long as Justice was around. And evidently, he wasn't going anywhere.

Suddenly a soft sound echoed across the space, making the man turn about wildly in the dark. It rang out once more, seemingly from every direction at once. "Hello?" he asked.

Justice immediately became alert. "_INTRUDER!"_ he shouted across the mage's self conscious

* * *

Anders shot up with a start, grabbing the staff resting on the wall next to him with a sweaty hand as he leapt up from where he had fallen asleep at his desk. He pointed the staff at the door to his room, making it slam against the wall as it swung open. However, his shoulders sagged at the sight in front of him. It was not an angry mob or the Knight Commander, but a soaking wet Astrid, her hair raining drips of water onto her armor.

"Uh, hi," she said, raising an eyebrow and lifting her hands in surrender.

Anders gaped at her, breathing heavily after the jarring dream as he took her in. She looked her usual composed self aside from being drenched. After a moment he let his shoulders sag in relief and pointed his staff away from her. "Astrid," he breathed.

"Anders," she returned with a warm smile. "It's ah, been a while."

"It has," he said with a short laugh. Anders ran a hand through his hair. "I owe you an apology. When I said that the only thing I felt was a hate for the templars…"

The girl looked up at him expectantly. Maker it felt good to have her there, smiling at him again. It had only been a few days, but they'd been miserable ones. Aside from when he'd woken up just then he really couldn't remember the last time he slept. It felt like Justice was constantly planning and helping him write and meet with mages forming an Underground coalition of sorts to keep his thoughts away from her. Not thinking about her was exhausting.

"Well, I shouldn't have. I…you know we're friends. I trust you more than anyone. I just don't want to see you or Bethany—or your mother," he added thoughtfully, "hurt. I—I care about you."

Anders felt like a babbling fool. A year ago her panties would have been on the floor by now, but things were different now. _He _was different. And while he was sure he couldn't be the man for her, he'd be damned if he weren't there for her. There were a hundred people he should have stuck around for—Karl, Cousland, maybe even Oghren and Nate, the poor bastards—but this time he'd get it right.

A small smile spread across her face and she cleared her throat. "I care about you too, Anders. There's no need to apologize. It wasn't fair of me to expect you to be accepting of a templar being a more, ah, prominent in my life. I can't imagine Justice is very pleased with me at the moment…?"

_Anders, the woman is a traitor. Demand she leave!_

The mage smiled tightly, ignoring the Spirit's anger and the swell of jealousy within him. _She's not yours,_ he reminded himself. "Well, he'll be okay."

"But are you okay?" She moved closer and eyed him carefully with her hands on her hips. "No offense, but you look like utter shit."

He laughed. "Saying 'no offense' before an insult still makes it an insult, I hope you realize that. But no, I'm fine. I just hadn't slept in a while, well except for just before you came in."

"I'm sorry I woke you. If I'd known you were sleeping…well, actually I still would have come in. I didn't walk here in the rain for nothing, you know," Astrid admitted, gesturing to the puddle forming at her feet. "I wanted to thank you for the flowers you left with my mother—they're beautiful. And you left quite an impression."

That at least made him grin. He was eager to hear about how his first experience with a woman's parent went. "Oh did I?"

"Oh yes, Gamlen won't stop talking about you. He wants to invite you out to the Blooming Rose with him."

"You can't be serious."

She snorted. "Of course not. But wouldn't that be horrific? Mother _loves _you though. She pestered Beth and me for an hour asking why we hadn't invited you to dinner before." Astrid crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a pointed look. "I was kind enough not to tell her you rejected all my invitations."

Anders rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

She waved it away. "I was just impressed you spent a good hour with them—with Gamlen scowling in the corner the whole time, no doubt. What did you talk about?"

Anders thought about his conversation with Leandra about Carver, Bethany's twin who had died, how she'd said Astrid blamed herself for it. "Oh, not much," he lied. He couldn't talk about this now with her. It was too deep, too heavy. She would come around when she was ready.

She gave him a suspicious glance but said nothing more on the subject. "Well, you could make up for all those rejected dinners somehow…I need a favor."

The mage simply raised his eyebrows, waiting. Justice however was agitated. _You presented her family with a floral arrangement and apologized. You owe her nothing!_

"I hurt my leg yesterday. And I, uh, might have fought on it today."

_Oh Astrid_. Anders sighed. "Let me clear off the papers on my desk, you can sit up there."

He gathered some supplies while she slipped off her muddy wet boot and let it drop to the floor. It didn't make much of a difference in the musty old building. Astrid cringed as she rolled her pant leg up and revealed a swollen, red inflamed wound on her leg.

Anders didn't hide his gasp. He wasn't even sure how she managed to walk on it, never mind fight with that atrocity on her leg. "How did you get this?" he demanded.

"Err…a skeletal, demon thingy on Sundermount. It didn't look so bad at first, but…well."

"It's most definitely infected. I think the creature may have poisoned your leg. This is probably going to hurt."

He looked up at her solemnly, catching her green eyes with his own. She looked carefree at first glance, but there was fear beneath it. She was biting her lip, which was never a good sign. "Alright. Bring it on."

"I need to slice into it and drain it," he warned her.

"Ooh, sexy," she laughed. "Let's not tell Varric or Isabela about this, okay? I'll never live it down."

Anders snorted as he reached for a small metal scalpel. "Okay, here we go." He did it quickly, but he knew it had to have hurt. Astrid didn't make any noise, her lips in a hard line, eyes closed. He gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze and handed her a health poultice to ease the pain as he thoroughly cleaned her leg and carefully stitched it shut.

She let out a sigh and stretched her leg. "Well that wasn't so awful. Thank you, Anders. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Get hurt and walk go around fighting anyway, I suppose," he said pointedly but with an easygoing grin. "What else did you do without me?"

"Hmm. Let's see…" Astrid gingerly scooted off the desk and set to putting her boot back on. "I repaid a favor to an old acquaintance—but that's a long story. I ran into an idiot of a dwarf who involved me with the Arishok."

"The Arishok?"

"Ugh. Yes. And what a pain in the ass that has been. He's not the nicest guy—who would have guessed". Astrid shook her head. "Also, I may have gotten roped into looking out for one of the Dalish who left the clan for the Alienage. She's actually been very useful so far. She's a sweet girl, but deadly with entropy."

Astrid mumbled something else that the mage couldn't make out. "Sorry, what?"

"Umm, she's also…a blood mage. Sort of."

Anders' jaw dropped. "Astrid…"

"I know what you're thinking, but she's completely innocent. Varric had to give her a spool of thread so she could find her way back to the Alienage for Andraste's sake!"the girl exclaimed. "Trust me."

Justice was raging inside Anders' head. He had to close his eyes for a few seconds to gain his composure. "Blood magic," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "is hardly innocent. You know that, Astrid."

Her face fell into a determined scowl. He made a note to himself not to push her. It had been only been a few days, but he'd missed her. He just wanted to talk and laugh like usual. But a _blood mage_? Was she trying to kill them all?

"Merill means well, she's a great mage, and I won't say no to more assistance. Besides, I can't just leave her to rot in the Alienage—she'll get eaten alive. I'm not asking you to support what she does, but be nice to her. She's adorable."

An adorable blood mage. He supposed he'd seen stranger things. "Andraste's knickerweasels," he cursed. "Fine, I've dealt with the mage hater. How bad can a blood mage be?"

Astrid's suntanned face transformed into a grin that somehow made it all worth it. "Anders, you're amazing."

"Hardly," he replied, but his stomach was in knots. He coughed and changed the subject. "What else did I miss? Did you wrestle a dragon? Save a village from darkspawn? Find a relic that grants eternal life? Or wait…did Fenris actually smile?"

Astrid laughed. "I can't decide which of those would be more remarkable. That's about it though. I came to invite you to play cards over at the Hanged Man with us."

"And to be healed," he pointed out. She rolled her eyes. "I might be inclined to go," Anders answered, "depending on the company."

"Me, Varric of course, Beth, Isabela, and Merill—the blood mage. Oh, and Aveline if she gets off duty before we're all wasted."

No templar mentioned, but would she purposefully leave him out to get Anders to unknowingly agree to go out and have to hang out with him? No, no. That wasn't her style, he decided. He was tempted to ask about her date, but it would only lead to trouble, and it was more than likely that he would completely regret hearing any details later. Anders opened his mouth to say he'd go to the bar but was cut off by a thought from Justice.

_Anders, you have work to do. Your manifesto is nearly complete. Do not abandon your duties! _

_Shit._ The Spirit had a point. It was great to see Astrid, but as much as he wanted to he couldn't drop everything for her. Not always. "Uhh actually, I have to finish up my manifesto. Besides, I'm sure someone else will come in needing healing tonight. It's been too slow of a day."

Any trace of hopefulness dropped from her face, but she quickly replaced the look with a smile as she headed for the door. "I understand. Also, I thought I should let you know that we'll be leaving for the Deep Roads next week. You might want to get your affairs in order."

The Deep Roads. It had been looming darkly in the horizon for weeks, but was suddenly just ahead. "Ah…right," he muttered.

She gave him a sympathetic look and bit her lip. "I know. I'm nervous too. We'll get through it though. And then we'll all be rich!"

The prospect of going back into the cavernous darkspawn filled tunnels was too grim to laugh about, but he smiled. "I have the utmost faith in you."

Astrid grinned and moved as if to leave, but he moved closer to her. "Here, I can at least walk you."

She playfully punched his shoulder. "Such a gentleman."

* * *

It was still raining as they walked through the streets, but Anders couldn't care less. It just felt good to stretch his legs and spend time with Astrid—_in a totally platonic way_, he told himself, even if his already tattered coat got even more worse for wear.

All was well until they reached Lowtown. Up ahead a woman in chantry robes with neat white blonde hair and milky skin, stood alone with a sour look on her face.

_What in the Maker's name is she doing?_ Anders wondered as huge hulking man with fiery red hair and a sword at his back approached her. Astrid stopped a good distance away and watched, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was staring at them.

"Here miss, word is you're looking for help," he said. "And pay well."

The chantry woman didn't even blink. "I need someone native to the dark places in Lowtown. If you claim as much, yes, I will pay."

"Oh boy," Astrid muttered quietly. "Yes, let's trust the first bearded freak with a weapon."

"I am, I am," he assured her. "Let's just step into this alley and me and my fellows can have a look at the money on offer."

The woman nodded and followed, not in the least hesitant or suspicious. Astrid meanwhile cursed. "Are you kidding me?"

Anders shook his head in disgust. "I don't know what's worse—the type that prey on these people, or the people who so easily fall for it."

"My thoughts exactly." The girl let out an agitated sigh. "Well, I suppose we better go help her. Shouldn't take long…"

* * *

BUT IT DOES TAKE LONG. HAWKE, YOU FOOL! Anywho...thanks for putting up with all my shit. Sorry if this chapter wasn't exactly action packed-I needed Astrid and Anders to stop being divas and be okay with each other again. Buuuut the Deep Roads are ahead! Again thanks to everyone who reviewed/favorited. It means a lot to me!


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